


Express Yourself

by bibliomaniac



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Pining, Trans Character, Underage tag for safety, Unrequited Love, Yuri POV, pov character is underage but nothing untoward happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8925175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky does have feelings. Lots of them. Lots of them, in particular, for one particular Japanese ice skater. But it's so much easier to let people think that he's just angry all the time, so much easier to keep his mouth shut and watch.But he also has lots of people who love him, and they're not going to let that stand.(aka the one in which Yuri has a crush on Yuuri but is really bad at showing it, and his journey to realizing that people love him just the way he is)





	1. Nobody Knows Me At All

**Author's Note:**

> current open fanfiction count: four  
> current prompt count: five
> 
> solution: start another fanfiction because I hate myself
> 
> but i read [this](http://yoimeta.tumblr.com/post/154694545547/issushaim-ok-listen-im-not-saying-i-spent-my) and i couldn't _not_ write angst about it

Yuri isn’t exactly good at, like…expressing himself. He can feel himself scowl at even the mere thought. Feelings are just gross, is all, and anger is warm and easy and good, and so he gets angry and people think that’s all there is to him and most of the time he doesn’t really mind.

But. He does mind when it comes to Yuuri Katsuki. He’s always minded when it comes to him. And now Yuuri thinks he hates him, and there aren’t really words to express how much he _minds_ , other than, perhaps, a long string of heartfelt and rather imaginative cussing.

Rewind a bit. It’s the Grand Prix Final, and Yuuri is totally bombing.

Or, rewind even further. Yuri has never been one to do anything less than wholeheartedly, so when he decides to skate professionally, he gets completely into it. He spends his nights watching Youtube videos of old routines, he spends his days practicing, and when he’s not practicing, he’s reading articles about current standings in the ice skating world. Who’s up-and-coming, who’s on their last legs, whatever.

It’s in this way that he hears about Yuuri for the first time. It’s just a passing mention in an article about junior skaters to watch, but Yuri is interested by the name—same as his!— so he Googles further. Yuuri Katsuki, one of the up-and-comers in the junior division, Japanese, known for his expressive spins and step sequences. Out of curiosity and pure dedication to his craft, Yuri inputs his name into Youtube.

And, oh. _Oh._ Yuri is only eight. He doesn’t know what love is, doesn’t know if he believes it exists at all, not after his parents. But he thinks if love were anything, if it existed, it would be Yuuri Katsuki’s skating. 

So he keeps on skating, keeps refining his craft, gets himself a top coach. He even gets a promise from Victor Nikiforov that he’ll choreograph his senior debut. And he never says it, never tells a soul, but it’s all for the day that he meets Yuuri on the same playing field, all for the day that he’ll be able to compete and show Yuuri how much his love has grown. And then Yuuri will say, Yuri, look at how hard you’ve tried, how much you’ve sacrificed, how good you’ve been for me, and then he’ll look down at Yuri with those beautiful expressive eyes and say, I know you’re only fifteen, but there’s something about you, and then Yuri will say, is it this? and he’ll go on his toes and ki—

Yuri pauses in his daydream. Okay. Maybe the last bit is…less likely. But the point is Yuuri’s going to see him, really see him, like nobody else does, and Yuuri will fall just as love with Yuri’s skating as Yuri did with Yuuri’s, and eventually they’re going to get married and adopt three cats. At minimum. 

But. _But._ It’s the Grand Prix Finals, and Yuri won in his division, but it’s the senior division men’s free skate today, and Yuuri is, as previously mentioned, totally bombing. His jumps are horrible, and his performance in general is just completely lackluster. His theme is supposed to be joy or something, but he mostly just looks miserable. He’s totally ruining Yuri’s dream meeting, which involved Yuuri at _least_ on the podium, and that pisses Yuri off.

Well, okay. He’s waited too long for this to give up now. Slight adjustment. He’ll find Yuuri after his imminent loss, and he’ll comfort him, and Yuuri will say, thank you for your kindness, you’re so mature for only being fifteen, and Yuri will say want me to show you how mature I can be and he’ll lean over and—

Yeah. Good plan. He nods, satisfied. Time to go find Yuuri.

He isn’t exactly expecting to find Yuuri crying in the bathroom, of all places, but it isn’t exactly outside of the narrative, so. 

He kicks the door to the bathroom stall. 

Nice. Good start.

Yuuri excuses himself and opens the door, still sniffling slightly. He looks awful, but he’s still beautiful. 

Yuri stares at him, drinking everything in, then points. “Hey. I’m competing in the senior division next year.” He racks his brain for something to say, something that will show Yuuri how much he cares, will motivate him to do better next year. “We don’t need two Yuris in the same bracket.” Okay, maybe a bit harsh, but— “Incompetents like you should just retire already.” Crap! That is not caring and mature at all! “Moron!”

Well, frick. He gets the heck out of dodge after that, mentally kicking himself as hard as he can. Maybe…maybe Yuuri will find being insulted motivational? Y…yeah. Yeah, that’s right. That’s definitely how these things work.

But he knows inside that he just messed up monumentally. That was not at all how he wanted their first meeting to go. He wanted…he wanted to be soft, and tender, and kind, but…that’s not him. Not really. 

Maybe he’s not meant to be close to Yuuri at all. Maybe he just doesn’t deserve it. Because Yuuri deserves someone who can be kind to him, who can wipe away his tears, and…he closes his eyes. Yeah. Maybe it’s for the best.

He lets himself be lectured by Victor and Yakov and keeps his head down, pretending like he’s not acutely aware of Yuuri nearby, and heads to his hotel room to get changed for the banquet. Suits, ugh. These things are always boring. 

He’s almost surprised Yuuri comes, but he doesn’t have the courage to confront him again. It’s not like it will go any better. He still keeps an eye out, though, raising an eyebrow at the incredible amount of champagne Yuuri is consuming. He doesn’t look so good for it, either; he’s starting to sway and get red and—and come over to Yuri, crap—

“Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuuri slurs, and Yuri makes a small squeaking noise. “You think I’m incompetent, huh? That I should retire? Well—well—well maybe you’re right—”

Yuri’s eyes widen. No! That’s the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen! Crap, crap, crap—

“And maybe you hate me, but—”

Quadruple crap! He wants to scream it, wants to scream out, no, I don’t hate you, I love you, love me back—

“But, but—” Yuuri’s eyes sharpen, and he suddenly smirks. “But can you dance?”

What.

Yuuri has dropped to the floor and is spinning, and, what. Seriously. What.

“You scared?” Yuuri taunts. “Scared…to dance?”

Yuri scowls. He’s not scared of anything. Hesitantly, he starts to dance along with Yuuri. Yuuri whoops triumphantly and starts dancing harder—harder moves, more intense choreography.

Still what, but it’s actually sort of fun. He makes a mental note to track down the photos of this later. Maybe it’s not ideal circumstances, but he is still dancing with his idol. 

Yuuri is clearly better than him at breakdancing, and eventually Yuri stops, tired. Yuuri pouts, then brightens when he sees a pole set up in the middle of the room, which—is this some kind of fever dream, because why is there a pole there, and why is Yuuri running towards it, and why is he…stripping, and…

Yuri’s eyes bulge nearly out of his head as he gapes. Yuuri is pole dancing. Christophe Giacometti eventually joins in, too, but Yuri’s eyes are solely on Yuuri, and Yuuri’s powerful thighs, and Yuuri’s briefs that leave exactly nothing to the imagination—

He is definitely going to get pictures of this too, he thinks dazedly. For…science. Mmhmm. 

Yuuri eventually gets bored of the pole dancing too, and he walks around aimlessly for a while before going over to—Yuri again? But no, Yuri is standing next to Victor, and Yuuri is talking to Victor, not him, and (holy crap) grinding on Victor, not him, and asking him to a dance off, and slurring something about his family having hot springs, and how he needs to come, and how if Yuuri wins the dance off, will Victor (not him) be his coach?

Yuri watches them dance together, he watches Yuuri’s face crinkle up in a laugh as he dips Victor, and his heart hurts. 

They look like they’re in love. 

And it’s not fair, because _Yuri_ came first, it’s _Yuri_ who’s always been watching—

He shuffles on the floor and folds into himself.

Watching. He’ll always only be watching. Because he’s Yuri Plisetsky, and he’s never been able to express himself, and anger is easy and people think anger is all there is to him.

It would be so much easier if that were true.


	2. All You Can Do

Months pass, and Yuuri continues what appears to be a downward spiral into complete obscurity. Yuri can’t help wonder sometimes if his biting words were a contributor somehow, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now other than hate himself, and, well, that’s not exactly new. So he just flips, melancholy, through the pictures from the banquet and tries to reconcile himself to that being the closest he’ll ever have gotten to Yuuri.

He still skates, but some of the drive behind it is gone. He’s at the rink on break from a rather listless practice and checking his social media when he sees that a new video of Yuuri skating has been uploaded.

Curious and more than a little bit excited, he clicks on it, eyes widening. He recognizes that opening pose. Yuuri is skating to Victor’s routine. He looks slightly tired, and he’s clearly put on weight, but he’s still as beautiful as ever, taking the routine and elevating it in a way that Victor would never have been capable of. Yuri watches the whole thing, then goes back to the beginning. “That Japanese Yuuri is an idiot,” he mutters, more than a little bit fondly, because he may be an idiot, but he’s an idiot who’s apparently gone back to skating with every bit of emotion that his old performances had, and Yuri is just as captivated as he’s always been.

He looks away from the screen, trying not to think about what emotion Yuuri is trying to express by skating Victor’s routine. Specifically the routine that features a love song between two men, a perfect copy, like he’s reaching out to someone.

But not Yuri.

He isn’t really that surprised, then, that Victor leaves for Japan the next day. If it had been him, he would have left even sooner. He gives a token protest for the people he knows are listening outside the changing room—asks “why that fatso” even as his heart aches to be near aforementioned fatso, asks if Victor had forgotten his promise when he knows full well that he did and doesn’t blame him, either—but mostly he’s biting his lip and thinking of the implications of Victor going to be with Yuuri, of them being alone together for months, seeing each other every day—

No. He’s not going to let that happen. He can’t give up his own skating, can’t just drop everything to be with Yuuri like Victor can, not now, but he can take Victor back. He will take Victor back. And then he’ll be back where he started, waiting for Yuuri to come back to him, to reform himself so that he can show Yuuri how much he cares without falling back onto his angry façade. 

It’s with that resolve that he books a ticket to Japan about a week later when Victor slips up and geotags his Instagram post. “I finally found you,” he whispers, stroking the picture that surely has Yuuri behind the camera, wishing both that he was there in the picture and feeling irrationally pleased that he’s not, because then Victor would be there with him, because then it would be real. He sobers at that thought. “Just you wait, Victor.”

He uses some of the prize money from winning the Junior GPF, the money he’s supposed to be saving to repay Grandpa, and books a flight a week out to Japan. He spends a while fruitlessly looking around for Victor before some guy fishing on the pier gives him directions to the ice rink. He walks up, mentally preparing himself to see Yuuri inside, but he’s not prepared for Yuuri to come up from behind, pressing himself to the door and saying something in Japanese to the three little kids keeping the press at bay. Yuri doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t really matter, because Yuuri has lost the weight from the video and he’s _there_ , so close he could just—k—

Kick him? 

That’s…not…the romantic overture he had planned. But before he knows it, he’s kicking him anyway, sending Yuuri flying into the building, and then he’s looking down at Yuuri’s face. It’s a very nice face, he notices. Pity it has a foot on it.

Oh crap that’s his foot. 

Crap. This is _definitely_ not romantic at _all_. Kinky, maybe, but—

He hides his flustered thoughts by saying, “It’s all your fault,” which it is, really, because it’s all Yuuri’s fault for being so darn attractive, and nice, and good at skating, and not at all in love with him. “Apologize.”

Yuuri apologizes, looking incredibly confused, which only makes him look cuter. Yuri blusters through his racing heartbeat by yelling, “Fatso! Pig! Fatso!” Maybe if he keeps saying it then Yuuri will get mad, and he’ll get mean, and Yuri will snap out of this crush. But it doesn’t happen like that, of course, because Yuuri is perfect. 

Yuri realizes with a start that he’s still standing on Yuuri and gets off him, leaning with a forced casualness against the rink’s desk. “He promised me first that he’d choreograph a program for me,” Yuri says, because that’s his cover story, after all. “What about you?” That’s right. Be sneaky about it, don’t let him know that you’re fishing for information about how far Victor has gotten.

Yuuri frowns as he gets up, saying, “Huh? We haven’t gotten to talking about programs or anything.”

Okay. Not at all what he was asking, really, but okay. “What? You make him take a whole year off, and to do what?” Maybe Yuuri will get what he means right now. Like, are they together, or— “Isn’t getting him as a coach enough?” No way Yuuri won’t understand after that.

But Yuri’s mouth keeps running away without him, and he continues, “As if a guy who’d sob in a toilet stall at the Grand Prix Final can change at all by getting Victor as a coach!” You don’t need to change, he wants to say, you’re perfect how you are, you don’t need Victor, you need me—

And then Yuuri, who’s been looking mostly bemused, smirks at him, and Yuri is gone. Flustered, because that is the sort of expression that should really be illegal on already hot figure skaters, he yelps, “Stop smirking, fatso!” 

Yuuri just says something about how they should ask Victor and walks away. Yuri follows him, and they both watch Victor skating for a bit as Yuri explains about how Victor was working on routines for the next season, but was worried because he couldn’t surprise the audience. “I wonder if he’ll let me use his program,” Yuri muses, mostly to himself. “I know I can surprise people more.” I know I can surprise you more. Let me. “I need Victor’s help if I’m going to make my senior debut and win the Grand Prix Final.” I need him if I’m going to get to where you are, if I’m going to make you see me.

“Huh? Win?” Yuuri asks.

Yuri chooses not to respond to that, instead screaming, “You look like you’re doing great, Victor!”

Victor smiles and turns around. “Yuri, you’re here? I’m surprised Yakov let you come. What do you want?”

Yuri scowls. He probably knows just fine why he’s here. Victor has always been sharp.

“Judging from that look,” Victor says musingly, “I’m guessing I forgot some promise I made.”

Oh. Yeah, that too. Yuri ekes out an explanation through clenched teeth—Victor has always brought out the worst in him, really, it’s not his fault—and Victor tells him he forgot. “But you knew I was the forgetful type, right?”

“Yeah, I’m painfully aware of that,” Yuri grumbles. Unless it’s a promise made to a cute drunken Japanese figure skater, obviously. He still doesn’t blame him, really. “But a promise is a promise. You’ll choreograph my new program, Victor! Let’s go back to Russia!” Far away from Yuuri.

Not for the first time, Yuri wishes he were older, more experienced, so that he could be the one coming to sweep Yuuri off his feet. But he’s not. He’s fifteen and this is all he can do. 

Victor proposes a competition, because of course he does. Predictable. Yuuri seems to be freaking out, but Yuri has a plan already. “Victor will do whatever the winner says! If those are the terms, I’m in.”

“Great! I love that kind of thing!” Victor says happily, which Yuri obviously already knew. Still predictable. 

He’s going to win.

He’s going to win, and he’ll make Victor promise to stay away from Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> except we all know how this turns out lol. poor boy he tries so hard. i love him


	3. Knowing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a warning, contains some pretty intense self-hatred

Yuri is a little bit giddy right now. He’s in Yuuri’s house. The house that Yuuri grew up in, the house that Yuuri lives in, sleeps in—

Unfortunately, Victor is there too.

But, still, Yuuri’s house. So, of course, with Yuuri looking expectantly at him, all he says is, “Talk about a hovel.”

Good fricking heavens he is the WORST at this.

Yuuri just stares at him, so he continues, “Where’s my room?” Obviously the optimal situation is that Yuuri doesn’t have any extra rooms, so oh, Yuri, you’re going to have to stay with me in my room, sorry, and I’ve only got one bed—

Yuuri visibly draws back. “You’re staying here?!”

Uh, duh, he wants to say. He’s nothing if not an opportunist. He wants to say, staying with you is like a dream, please let me stay forever—

He doesn’t say that. He says, “If you get Victor to yourself all the time, it won’t be a fair match! I’ll stay here too, all right?!”

Yuuri smiles, looking incredibly tired, and shrugs. “It’s not like you care what I think.”

Hah. If only he knew.

Victor chimes in, “The hot spring is great.” 

“I can’t take a bath with other people!” he protests on principle, but just as he says it his face pales, because does that mean that Victor and Yuuri have already bathed together? That’s just not right. That should be him. More than a little bit pissed off now, he yells, “I’m going to bed!”

He realizes fairly quickly that he has no idea where his room is. He pauses outside the doorway. Crap. He can’t just go back in, how humiliating—

And then his stomach grumbles, loudly, plaintively. He takes it back. _This_ is humiliating.

Blustering, he slams the door back open and says loudly, “Give me food! And a bath!”

He takes the bath first, relishing in the hot water and the privacy. As he relaxes against the walls of the weird bath, he closes his eyes. He’s really making a mess of all of this. If he could say what he meant, would Yuuri see, would Yuuri feel how much Yuri cares what he thinks? Would he know how much Yuri wants to be kind, wants to be different, wants to be somebody who’s right for Yuuri, wants to be anybody other than Yuri Plisetsky?

He sighs and bumps his head against the bath walls. It doesn’t really matter. He’s not different, and he is Yuri Plisetsky. This is just what his life is like. He’s going to be consigned forever to a reality in which nobody really understands him, really wants him. He can dream all he wants, he can fantasize about how Yuuri could love him, but it’s not going to happen, is it? Not for Yuri. Never for him.

He gets out of the bath, feeling very sober, and gets dressed into the robes provided for him. He finds the room that Victor and Yuuri are in and eats the bowl of whatever-it-is that the Japanese lady—Yuuri’s mom, probably—gives him. His eyes widen. “This is great!” 

Victor says, “The pork cutlet bowl is good, isn’t it?”

That’s exactly what he just said, yeah, but it’s nice to have a name for the food. 

The door slides open as he’s still eating, and someone says something in Japanese. 

He turns around, irritated to be disturbed and equally irritated by his lack of understanding, and asks, “Huh?”

It’s a girl with dyed hair and piercings, and she makes an expression that he’s seen before on his fans. Ugh. Not again. He doesn’t understand what she says to Yuuri’s mom, but he does get it when she points at him and says in English, “Okay, you’re Yurio!”

“What?!” he exclaims. 

The girl continues to talk to Yuuri in Japanese, then Yuuri leaves the room, which means Yuri is alone with Victor. Double ugh. 

“Good for you, Yurio,” Victor says teasingly.

“Shut up! That’s not my name!” Yuri says, irritated like he always is just by being in Victor’s presence. Victor, who is always smiling and happy and popular. Victor, who is old enough and experienced enough and who always says what he means. Victor, who very well may at this point have gotten to see Yuuri naked—

Victor just laughs infuriatingly. 

Yuri finishes his food with minimal conversation with Victor. He always gets sleepy after a meal, so he plants his head on the table and dozes off until the girl, who is apparently Yuuri’s older sister, comes to take him to his room upstairs.

He dreams that he sheds his skin and becomes someone worthwhile.

When he wakes up, Victor takes them both on a run by the seaside towards the rink. When they get to the rink, Victor has them stand in front of some speakers as he starts playing the music that they’ll be skating to.

The first song sounds innocent, almost childlike in its wonder. 

“This piece comes in two arrangements, each with a different theme,” Victor explains. “On Love: Eros and Agape. Have you ever thought about love?”

Double hah. He says, “Nope,” anyway.

“All right. Then what do you feel when you listen to this music?”

Yuuri tilts his head slightly as he says, “It’s very clear and innocent, like someone who doesn’t know what love is yet.”

Yuri looks at him. Of course Yuuri can already emotionally connect to the music. It’s Yuuri, after all. He interrupts, saying, “I don’t like this piece. This innocence crap makes me wanna barf.”

“Okay,” Victor says calmly, then switches the music.

Something far more upbeat starts playing, and Yuuri says wonderingly, “It’s like a completely different song.”

Yuri hears the wonder in his voice, and he knows. He has to do this piece. “Victor. I want to skate to this one!”

Victor ignores them both. “The first piece is ‘On Love: Agape.’ The theme is unconditional love.”

Yuuri nods next to Yuri.

“And this piece is ‘On Love: Eros.’ The theme is sexual love.”

Yuri echoes Yuuri’s nod. That’s easy enough to understand. Sex isn’t an emotion; it’s an action. He can express that just fine.

Victor continues. “I’ll have you two skate to these opposing themes. This is how I’m assigning them.” He pauses dramatically, then says cheerfully, “Yuuri, you’ll skate to Eros! Yurio, you’ll skate to Agape!”

The blood pounds in Yuri’s ears. What? He’s supposed to skate to a piece about unconditional love? A piece that’s all about expressing your emotions? Behind him, he can faintly hear Yuuri freaking out, but all he can say is, “Switch them! That piece isn’t me at all!”

He knows that Yuuri can skate to Eros. Even if he didn’t embody that for Yuri just by being himself, he fricking pole danced last year at the banquet. That’s not the problem. He just knows that he can’t win himself doing a piece about expressing your love. And he needs to win. He needs Victor to not be near Yuuri, because Victor is everything he isn’t, and he doesn’t know if he can take it if Yuuri falls for Victor.

Victor is still talking. “—of what people expect. How else will your surprise them? That’s my motto. Actually, you’re both far more ordinary and mediocre than you think. You need to be more self-aware.”

Yuri clenches his fists. He knows that. If there’s anything he knows, it’s always been that. All he has is his skating, and all he can fight with is his skating. That’s how it’s always been. Which is why he _needs_ —

“I’m surprised you think you can choose your own image. From the audience’s perspective, you’re just a piglet and a kitten. If you aren’t up to my standards by next week, I won’t choreograph either of your programs. Both of you are my fans, so I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Yuri blinks, then scowls. Exactly who is whose fan? He hates Victor and everything he stands for.

But it doesn’t look like he has a choice. He clenches his teeth and says, “Fine. I’ll skate to Agape. My senior division debut depends on it!” Everything depends on it, really. “You’d better give me a program that’ll let me win!”

“It’s up to you whether you win or not,” Victor says blithely. “If I skated the program, I’d win for sure.”

Jeez, can one person be this irritating without even trying? There’s no way Victor doesn’t do this on purpose. Yuri kicks the ice. “If I win, Victor, you’re coming back to Russia. And you’ll be my coach! That’s what I want!”

That’s not even a fraction of what he wants, but it’ll do.

Victor smiles and says, “Sure,” and that right there is the difference between them. Because if Yuri had Yuuri, if he really _had_ him like Victor has Yuuri right now, he would never let him go, not for anything. He hates Victor. He _hates_ him.

“Yuuri, what about you?” Victor asks. “What would you like to do if you win?”

Yuuri takes a shaky breath, then whispers, “I want to eat pork cutlet bowls with you, Victor.”

Yuri’s heart breaks a little bit at that. He can tell. He can tell that Yuuri is already a little bit in love with Victor, and it’s not fair. 

“I want to keep on winning and keep on eating pork cutlet bowls! So I’ll skate to Eros! I’ll give it all the eros I’ve got!” 

Both Yuri and Victor know that’s quite a lot, so Yuri isn’t surprised when Victor beams and says, “Great! That’s exactly what I like!”

And Yuri can tell, too, that Victor is already just a little bit in love with Yuuri as well. Why wouldn’t he be? Who wouldn’t fall in love with Yuuri? But his heart aches anyway. Why can’t it be him? (He knows why.) Why does he have to be the bad guy here? (He knows what he has to do.)

(Because if he has to break Yuuri’s heart to keep his own heart from breaking more, he knows what he’ll choose every time. Because he’s selfish, and immature, and because he’s not a good person. 

He knows.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna give him a hug
> 
> wrote this to pass the time until the sub is up and bc i cant go on tumblr bc Spoilers. sigh. but it's yoi day guys!!! it's!!! the end......!!!
> 
> //lays down and sobs


	4. The Feeling of Your Hand On My Skin

A week later, Victor presents the choreography for their respective pieces. Yuri has always been good at copying, so he gets the basics down pretty quickly, but he can tell Yuuri is distraught, especially when Victor asks him what quads he can land.

“Um, I think I can do it if I try!” Yuuri says, and Yuri falls a little bit more in love. That’s one of the things he’s always admired about Yuuri—he’s not technically perfect, but he always tries hard. That’s part of the reason he was so surprised to find him crying in the bathroom. He supposes that even people who try hard can still fail, though.

Victor still tells Yuuri to spend the day practicing basics, though, which Yuri thinks is kind of douchey, but then again it’s Victor. But he does get to go first, so. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

He sort of spaces out while they’re talking about confidence, but then he looks back over, and Victor is touching his Yuuri’s lips. His Yuuri! On his lips! What the utter frick! He prickles and screeches, “Hey, Victor! Aren’t you teaching me first?!”

“Right,” Victor says calmly, drawing back. Yuri relaxes a little, but Yuuri is still blushing and Yuri is still pissed. Frick. That should be him. If there were any justice in the world it would be him. He’d be born earlier, in a different body, a different Yuri.

But there’s not. He’s not.

Yuuri goes off to stretch somewhere, and Victor starts with Yuri’s practice. Victor works him hard, and even after Yuri’s skated what to him seems a perfect copy of Victor’s program, Victor still says, “Hmm, something isn’t right here.”

“I’m doing it like you showed me, aren’t I?” Yuri retorts.

Victor taps his chin thoughtfully. “The way you currently are, your greed is too obvious.”

Yuri’s eyes widen minutely. His greed? Is it that obvious that he wants Yuuri? No, surely he means for the win, or something. Anyway, it’s not something he can really argue with. He’s well aware that he’s a greedy jerk. He wouldn’t be here if he weren’t.

“There’s no sense of agape, unconditional love, in your performance,” Victor continues. “It’s good to have confidence, but this program isn’t where you should show it off.”

Yuri scowls. He knows, darnit! He knows that he can’t do this! “Huh?” he asks angrily. “You’re the one who’s skated with complete confidence this whole time! Well, what’s agape to you, then, Victor?!”

Victor smiles, but Yuri can tell he’s evading the question. “It’s a feeling, of course, so I could never explain it in words. Do you bother thinking about that when you skate? You’re funny, Yurio.”

Yuri is pretty sure his eye is twitching now as he gapes at Victor. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, maybe we need a temple,” Victor says cheerfully.

His eye is definitely twitching. “A temple?”

After he sits in the temple being hit by some dude with a stick, because Victor is clearly a sadist and not in _any_ of the good ways, he’s so exhausted that he barely even notices that Yuuri is there in the public bath with him. 

Almost. Because then Yuuri is running his hands through his hair, his glasses off, looking so utterly sexy that Yuri can’t do anything but stare, mouth open. Maybe there is justice in the world after all, and if he just scooted over just a little, then they’d be touching, and—

So, of course, Victor comes in right then, smiling pleasantly. “Hey, hey! Take a photo of me in the bath so I can post it online.”

Yuri can’t even bring himself to get mad. He just stares dully at Victor’s naked body. It’s nice enough, he supposes, if you’re into that sort of thing, which he isn’t. The only redeeming thing is that it doesn’t seem like Yuuri particularly is, either, just saying something about how pictures aren’t allowed in the bath. 

Victor throws aside his towel, exclaiming, “Really?!”, and spreading his legs in a really quite obvious way. Yuri peeks at Yuuri. He doesn’t appear to have noticed. It’s probably lucky for him that Yuuri is incredibly oblivious.

Unfortunately for him, Victor isn’t, because his eyes narrow slightly as he looks at Yuri, and then Yuuri, and then back at Yuri, then smirks slightly.

They’re all eating together, broccoli with bean sprouts—well, Yuuri is, anyway—and Yuri is resting his head on the table agonizing over that smirk. Does he know? If he knows, more importantly, would he tell Yuuri? Surely not, right? Surely—

“I get it now! Pork cutlet bowls! That’s what eros is to me!”

Yuri blinks, processing. He knew that Yuuri has been having problems expressing eros, for some reason, but—really? 

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri says, looking dazed and embarrassed. “It’s not…”

“Okay, let’s go with that,” Victor says, looking as bemused as Yuri feels. “It’s nice and unique.”

Yuri just smiles, eyebrows raised, at Yuuri. He doesn’t get it, doesn’t get why Yuuri has to use a crutch when he oozes eros just by virtue of being Yuuri, but it’s kind of adorable anyway. “Seriously?” he says, because he has no control over his mouth whatsoever. He’s kind of given up on that front by now, really.

Yuuri flushes deeply and excuses himself for a run. 

After that, though, Yuuri is allowed to practice alongside Yuri. Victor continues to be dissatisfied with both of their performances, but somehow, Yuri can’t exactly bring himself to mind as much as he maybe should, because he’s living with Yuuri, going to the gym with Yuuri, bathing with Yuuri, eating with Yuuri. They do most things side by side. And, sure, Victor is there, but even that can’t sour the joy of being with the one he loves.

One day after a particularly grueling practice, Victor watches Yuri contemplatively, then says, “Hmm…well, maybe a waterfall would help.”

So that’s how he finds himself underneath a waterfall next to Yuuri, for some reason, trying hard not to be distracted by the way Yuuri’s robes have become translucent underneath the pounding water. 

“I’m going to kill him,” he mutters. There’s no way Victor doesn’t have an idea by now. 

“Why me, too?” Yuuri asks miserably, but Yuri isn’t exactly sad that he has company, much less company that looks so very good in see-through white clothes.

“Who cares?” he asks. (He does.) “Who cares about agape? Forget all of them.” 

Yuuri doesn’t respond, so Yuri closes his eyes and thinks. He doesn’t really think he even believes in unconditional love. Even his love for Yuuri probably has conditions, right? Is there anybody in his life who’s ever loved him without strings?

 _Grandpa_ , the thought comes unbidden to his mind. _He’s always loved you no matter what. When your parents didn’t, when you failed, when you succeeded. Whether you deserved it or not._

He is shaken out of his reverie by Yuuri’s voice. “Yurio? Hey, Yurio!” 

And then. Yuuri’s hand is—well, on his arm, pulling him out of the waterfall, but he’s _touching him_ , his big strong hands are _touching him_ , and his kind voice is asking, “Are you okay? Let’s call it a day.”

His eyes are wide, his wrist is burning where Yuuri’s hand still lies. “Oh…okay,” he says breathlessly. 

If he hadn’t been resolved to win before, he is now. Because there’s no way he could know the feeling of Yuuri’s skin against his and _not_ be in love, no way he could give him to Victor after _that_. 

He may be greedy, he may be selfish and uncaring and emotionally repressed, but he is in love, and he wants Yuuri all for himself. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that episode tho
> 
> i want to make something clear btw--in this fic yuri's crush on yuuri is unrequited. they're not going to get together here. if that's what you're looking for this isn't the fic for you, i'm afraid. however, i'm going to try to get them to a place where yuri is happy anyway! even if yuuri doesn't love him romantically, i truly believe there are lots of people that canonically love him in a different way and that's okay :)


	5. Darkness / Something Bright

One day until the competition.

“Victor still isn’t here, huh?” Yuuri comments.

Yuri presses his lips together. Yuuri isn’t really an excellent conversationalist, around Yuri at least, but it still pisses him off that he’s talking about Victor instead of talking with him. Fighting to keep his irritation from leaking into his voice, he responds evenly, “They said he was drinking until dawn.”

Yuuri stands up behind him. “Oh, Yurio…”

He turns. “Huh? What?”

Yuuri presses his hands together and bows his head. “Please teach me how to land a quad Salchow. Please!”

Yuri stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head. As if he could deny Yuuri anything. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s worth it just to see the way Yuuri’s face lights up.

Yuuri keeps flubbing the landing, though, and Yuri is starting to get frustrated, because he knows that Yuuri only misses jumps when he’s nervous, and he doesn’t like that Yuuri is so clearly nervous around him. “You suck!” he yells. “Hey, Pork Cutlet Bowl. Watch me do it one more time.”

They’re both interrupted by Victor. “Sorry I’m late!” he says cheerfully from the entrance to the room, looking disheveled. “Huh? What were you practicing just now?”

They skate away from each other almost instantly, and for once, the distance is almost nice. A secret, just between the two of them. 

Yuri practices his routine, keeping the image of his grandpa in his mind. He skates better than he did before, and he can tell Victor is pleased with him. He’s fairly pleased with himself too, honestly. He never really thought he would be able to understand agape, much less to express it through his performance.

That night, he and Yuuri pick out their costumes for tomorrow from Victor’s past competition costumes. “Wow!” Yuuri exclaims, obviously in full-on fan mode.

Yuri scowls. “There are a lot of stupid-looking ones,” he mumbles petulantly.

“Hey, you wore this one at the Grand Prix Final last year!” Yuuri continues, unperturbed.

“Hey! Don’t pick anything flashier than mine!” Yuri growls, irritated by Yuuri’s idolization of Victor, wishing—not for the first time—that his and Victor’s positions were reversed and Yuuri was getting so excited about the prospect of wearing _his_ clothes. 

“This is from the Junior World Championship!” Yuuri says happily, holding up a black costume with mesh insets and sparkly crystal things on it. 

“Oh, yeah,” Victor says from the corner where he’s been observing the entire thing. “I had long hair at the time, so my costume suggested both male and female genders at once.”

Yuri looks at Yuuri, who’s smiling fondly down at the costume, and his heart tightens. “I choose this one!” Yuuri says with the brightest smile Yuri has ever seen from him.

But not for you, the nasty voice in Yuri’s head reminds him. For Victor.

Yuri clenches his teeth. Only until tomorrow. Then he’ll separate them, and everything will be…well, maybe not good, but all right. Back to normal.

He picks his costume without fanfare or commentary. It's white, transparent and glittery in some areas. It looks angelic, and it doesn’t fit how he’s feeling right now at all.

The day of the competition comes, and a newscaster lines him and Yuuri up for an interview.

“Right off the bat, we have skaters Katsuki Yuuri and Yuri Plisetsky,” the guy says excitedly. “Both your new short programs were choreographed by Victor Nikiforov. You’ll be presenting them today in competition. Tell us how you feel going into the event!”

“Um, it’d be great if you’d try the hot springs afterward,” Yuuri says awkwardly. Yuri can’t stop himself from a slight smile, though he corrects himself quickly. How adorable. 

The newscaster says something in Japanese, sounding irritated with Yuuri, which, rude. Yuri is the only one who’s allowed to be irritated with Yuuri. He interrupts, “We don’t need two Yuris. I’ll crush him.”

Okay, maybe that was a bit rude too, but. Whatever. The newscaster seems to like it, anyway. 

Yuri and Yuuri both head to the changing room along with Victor to do last minute warmups for their programs. Yuuri stretches, looking absolutely delectable with his hair slicked back, and Yuri has to jog in place facing away from Yuuri just to keep himself from watching. 

(And maybe he peeks once or twice, but, whatever. It’s not like Yuuri notices. He never does.)

((Victor does, for the record, notice. He narrows his eyes, something clicking in his mind.

Oh. _Oh._ Well, that’s interesting.))

“Yurio-kun!” Yuuko calls out into the room. “It’s almost time.”

“Okay,” Yuri says, unzipping his jacket.

Yuuko squeals, saying something in Japanese and coming up close to him. “You’re gushing all kinds of fluids again,” Yuri comments, but he’s sort of used to it by now. Yuuko isn’t too bad.

“You look really good in it! Good luck!” she says, in English now.

“O-okay,” he says, smiling slightly. Yeah. He likes Yuuko. 

“Oh, you have to go! Come on, get a move on!” she says, shoving him out the curtain.

((Victor is still processing. That explains a lot, he thinks to himself. Yuuri has to remind him to leave the room to watch Yuri’s performance.))

Yuri skates out onto the ice. 

At first, he thinks about Grandpa. But as the program goes on, he finds it harder to think about anything except for the moves, and what’s coming next, and how much he needs to win. 

He ends, staring up at the ceiling, and thinking, “I’m better than this.”

Are you really? the voice asks. Are you sure?

“Yurio!” he hears Victor yell from off the ice. “That was the best performance I’ve seen from you so far! Go on, greet the audience!”

And isn’t that a blow, like Victor thinks that he’s done his best. Is that really all he is? Is that really all Victor thinks he can do?

And what about Yuuri? What did he think?

He forces a smile for the audience. Now’s not the time to think about that. Yuuri never found his eros, right? He won’t win.

He can’t.

But.

But Yuuri is hugging Victor.

But Yuuri is skating onto the ice, and he’s starting, and something about him is completely different.

But Yuuri is beautiful, and Victor can’t take his eyes off him, and Yuri can’t either. 

Closing his eyes as if not seeing Yuuri will make this hurt less, Yuri turns to leave. Yuuri’s going to win, which means Yuuri is going to stay with Victor, which means…which means…

He probably shouldn’t have come here in the first place, he thinks miserably as he walks out of the rink and towards the setting sun. Because the only thing worse than losing Yuuri is getting to know him and then losing him. He should have just stayed in Russia, known his place. He should have known that touching the sun, even if only for a moment, would burn him in the end.

“Yurio-kun! Hang on,” he hears from behind him. It’s Yuuko. “You’re going back without even hearing the results?”

“I already know the results,” he says flatly, lip trembling. Darn it, he’s not going to cry. He can’t cry, not here. “I’m going to keep going under Yakov. Later. Dasvidaniya.”

“I see,” Yuuko says quietly.

“Don’t get me wrong! I’m the one who’ll win at the Grand Prix Final,” he says, blustering. “Tell him that!”

He starts to walk away. Yuuko sighs, then says, “You love him, don’t you?”

His heart freezes. “I—what?”

“Yuuri. You’re in love with him.” 

He turns around, eyes wide and frightened. “You—”

“Just because he doesn’t have notice these things doesn’t mean I don’t.” She smiles gently. “It’s okay.”

He closes his eyes again, defeated. “Are you going to tell him?”

“No, of course not. That’s your choice, not mine. Besides, I don’t know if he’d believe me, anyway.”

Keeping his eyes closed, this time to keep the tears at bay, he murmurs, “So, I really messed it up that badly, huh?”

“No! No, I mean…Yuuri just doesn’t have a lot of confidence in himself. I don’t think he believes anyone will ever love him.” She pauses. “Whoever he ends up with, I think they’ll have to tell him every day, you know?”

He chuckles bitterly, finally opening his eyes. “I guess I’m out of the running, then. I could never do that. I couldn’t even tell him once.”

“I think you managed to tell him plenty of times, in your own way,” Yuuko says carefully. “You just have to know how to listen, is all.”

Yuri snorts. “Sure.”

“No, really.” She bites her lip, then draws him into a hug. “Look, I think someday someone will be very lucky to have you, and they’ll love you just the way you are.”

He’ll never admit that he relaxes into her touch. People don’t really touch him often. “But not Yuuri,” he says quietly.

“That’s not for me to say. But someone, okay? Believe in that.”

“I’ll try.”

She finally steps back, smiling again. “All right. You should probably get going before some reporter notices you’re gone.”

“Yeah.” He hesitates, then says, “Can I…have your phone number, maybe?”

“Of course!” She puts her hand out for his phone, then inputs her number. “Text me whenever. I’ll even give you updates on how he’s doing, if you like.”

He smiles, big and genuine. “Thanks. I…really appreciate it.”

“No problem! Now go, go. Text me when you get onto the plane safely, okay?”

“You sound like a mom.”

“I am a mom. Text me anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He picks up his abandoned luggage, still smiling, and this whole thing still sucks and he’s still sad, but at least there’s something bright in all of the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT ME, FINALLY UPDATING LIKE A PROPER AUTHOR!! 
> 
> sorry i've been in a real slump =v=


	6. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for transphobia/misgendering

As promised, Yuuko texts Yuri daily updates on Yuuri, and they talk. Yuri learns that Yuuko started dating her current husband when she was 15, and about her unexpected pregnancy at age 19, the judgment she felt from everyone in town about her getting pregnant out of wedlock, her subsequent marriage to Takeshi, and the heartbreak she felt when even her best friend Yuuri left her behind—ostensibly for figure skating, but also because he couldn’t take seeing her with someone else.

“I actually confessed to him, once,” she says thoughtfully over a late-night phone call one day. “When we were kids.”

Yuri rolls over on his bed. “Yeah? What happened?”

“He thought I was joking and started crying, so I never brought it up again.” He can hear her exhale over the phone. “You’ve picked a difficult one, Yuri Plisetsky.”

“I didn’t pick him,” he grumbles. “It just happened.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I know how that is.”

A few days later while he’s stretching to get ready for practice, she texts him a picture that she took while they were in Hasetsu together of them and the three triplets, along with the caption, 

“Hi Yuri, I heard that the other Yuri is producing his own FS program this year. They haven’t decided what the theme will be, but I guess he and Victor are choreographing it together.

What about you? Have you decided what you will be doing for your FS program yet? I’m really looking forward to it!!” 

She follows it up with a hastily taken picture of Yuuri with only a towel around his neck, plus a winky face.

His eyes widen and his position almost falters, but he remembers quickly that he’s in a very public rink, and announces loudly, “Huh? That little piggy’s producing his own free program? Is Yuuko trying to scout the enemy?”

He knows she isn’t, though. She wouldn’t do that. He carefully repositions the text window to only show her previous message.

Twirling a strand of hair, he thinks, “But, producing his own program, huh?”

He’s interrupted by Mila, who gloms onto him and says in Russian, “Huh? Yuri, did you go to Japan to find a girlfriend?”

“No,” he says, although that’s a bit too close for comfort. “Get off me, Mila. Are you horny because you dumped that hockey player? I wouldn’t put myself in that situation. I won’t get myself almost killed just for going on a date with another girl.”

Mila smiles blandly, then lifts him up above her head. “I’ve been practicing lifts lately, too,” she says sweetly. 

“Let me down, hag!” he yelps. He hates it when she does this, emphasizes that his body is light and pliable, like a…well.

“I’m only three years older than you,” she says, still smiling. 

Yakov suddenly appears. “Yuri. Mila.”

“Coach Yakov,” Mila says, eyes wide and innocent.

“Put me down already! Come on!” Yuri says, still struggling.

Meanwhile, Yakov asks dryly, “Are you two switching to pairs skating?”

“S-sorry,” Mila says awkwardly, then puts him down.

They both get back to practicing on the ice. Ever since coming back, Yuri has thrown himself into his practice. He may not have been able to separate Yuuri from Victor, but he can still show Yuuri that he’s better than Victor, so much better for him. He can still make Yuuri proud of him. 

He’s surprised when Yakov calls out to him and asks him to follow him into a hallway, along with an older woman, who stands in front of him and stares at him calculatingly. “Who’s this hag?” he asks, irritated to be interrupted during his practice. 

The lady ignores him and opens his mouth, checking his teeth. “No cavities,” she says thoughtfully, then positions him at the railing into a stretch. “Physically, he’s abysmal. We start from square one with ballet lessons.”

“Do what you want,” Yakov says.

“What the heck?!” Yuri protests, coming out of the stretch, arms raised defensively.

“I will choreograph your free program,” the woman says firmly. “First, I’ve decided on your next goal. Become this season’s principal—” She raises her hand to his face, drawing back the hair covering his right eye, and her eyes widen. “No, prima ballerina.”

He clenches his teeth. So she knows, and she’s being a jerk about it. Great.

She continues, “If you are willing to sell your soul to win.”

“Prima ballerina?” Mila says confusedly from the sidelines. Good. She didn’t pick up on it.

Yuri hates this woman a little already, but if she can help him win…if she can help him show Yuuri…

He takes her hand and says flatly, “If selling my soul is all it takes to win, I’ll give you my whole body, no holds barred.”

Because he’d do anything for Yuuri.

She stares at him again, then says, “I am Lilia Baranovskaya. Go home and pack up your things. You’ll be living with me from now on to practice.”

He draws back, scowling.

“With Yakov, too.”

“Lilia!” Yakov exclaims.

“Don’t get me wrong, Yakov,” she says coolly. “I don’t intend to get back together with you.”

Yuri turns to Yakov. “Huh? What?”

Yakov protests, “I…I wasn’t hoping for that at all!”

Lilia barely gives him any time to pack, much less to text Yuuko about the new development, but he does manage to shoot off a quick, “help, being kidnapped by Yakov’s ex-wife to learn ballet or somecrap”

“Huh? Are you okay?”

He looks at his phone, biting his lip. Should he say “no, she’s a clearly transphobic bigot”? But Yuuko doesn’t know, and she could tell Yuuri…He settles on, “no, but what else is new”

“lol! Well, keep me updated, okay? Let me know if things are worse than usual :)”

The following weeks are hell. Lilia is incredibly strict, even moreso than Victor. “It’s no good at all,” she calls out across the ice. “Even the king crab we ate yesterday had a better free leg than you. Do it again, starting from the same place. Your response?”

He hates her, but he has to do this. “Yes, ma’am!” he calls back. 

He continues to practice, and he continues to improve. A while later, while he’s unwinding at Lilia’s home, Yakov bursts into the room. “Yuri! The assignments are in.”

Yuri, who had been taking a shower, opens the door, face inscrutable. “Where? Where’d the little Japanese piggy get assigned?”

Yakov is obviously confused by the question, but he answers anyway. “Cup of China and Rostelecom Cup.”

“And me?”

Yakov consults the printout again. “Skate Canada…and…Rostelecom.”

Yuri’s uncomfortably wet, dripping on the floor, and Lilia is clearly staring at his chest with eyebrows raised, but he can’t help but grin.

They’ll be skating together again, and Yuri will be able to show Yuuri everything he’s sacrificed for him. He’ll have another chance.

He returns to practice the next day with increased vigor. 

“Okay, from the very beginning,” Lilia orders, and he obeys, letting his hair down from its half ponytail. 

“That’s right, Yuri…” Lilia says. “That’s beautiful.”

He doesn’t let it get to him, not anymore. At least she uses his real name. Ostensibly because she doesn't know his deadname, but still. He shakes it off, closing his eyes.

_I only have a short window before my body changes._

_I’m going to take advantage of everything I can right now to win._

Yuri takes a deep breath, then starts to skate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trans!yuri is best yuri
> 
> (dw he'll eventually confront lilia about her behavior)
> 
> oh also! according to the text i transcribed part of from ep4, yuuko actually saw him off at the airport (which is so sweet omg) so the last chapter is technically inaccurate but w/e im keeping it


	7. All I Ever Wanted (You're Taking It From Me)

It’s September, and Yuri is more than a little bit pissed off. Like, more than normal.

Specifically, he’s irritated because they aren’t filming the regional Japanese championships. Even more specifically, he’s angry—furious, really—because somebody finally posted a picture of Yuuri, and it’s of him jumping into Victor’s arms.

Overcome with rage, he chucks his phone at the wall. It’s not fair! It’s not fair that he’s doing everything he can to catch up to Yuuri, and meanwhile, Victor is just—there already! What did Victor ever do for Yuuri? Why isn’t it him? Hasn’t he suffered enough?

“What are you doing, Yuri?” Mila asks cheerfully from behind him. “Oh, you saw the photo of Victor and the Japanese Yuri, didn’t you? Jealous?”

She has no idea. “Shut up, hag!” he screams, then storms off to the changing room to blow off steam. He gets in front of his locker and briefly contemplates just…leaving, just going home—his real home, not Lilia’s—where he can be alone to throw things and scream and cry without anyone judging him.

But then he’ll never see Yuuri again, he realizes despondently. The fight leaves him in an instant. He rests his forehead against the cool metal of his locker, breathing harshly. He’d never see him, and Victor would win.

“Yuri,” Lilia barks, looming at the entrance to the changing room. “Your break time is up. Come back out here, now.”

“I just need a minute,” he yells back. “Just…just one minute.”

She stares at him inscrutably. “Fine. One minute. But Yuri?”

“Yeah?”

“You leave your personal issues off the ice.”

He rolls his eyes, but mumbles, “Yes, ma’am.”

After that, Lilia doesn’t really even leave him time to think about his ‘personal issues’. He spends all his time practicing for Skate Canada. Plus, he’s been feeling really weird lately. His skating is off, and he can’t pinpoint exactly why.

The weird feeling follows him all the way to Skate Canada, and despite his best effort, he gets second place to JJ’s first. 

Things don’t get better, either. The night before the Cup of China, Yuri checks his Instagram only to find a picture from Yuuri’s friend Phichit depicting a very naked Victor clinging onto an embarrassed Yuuri. 

That utter scum, he thinks, outraged, forcing himself onto Yuuri like that. He would never do that to Yuuri, if it were him.

But it’s not, the nasty voice in his head reminds him. It’s not you.

He’s barely been able to concentrate on the performances of the other skaters all day, but now it’s time for Yuuri. He finds himself a good spot near the back of the room where nobody else has to see him getting into Yuuri’s program.

Mila, of course, doesn’t get it, nor does he want her to. “Yuri, it’s about to start! Come watch with us,” she invites.

“I’m fine. I’ll watch from over here,” he says.

The camera is panning over the audience, but then it zooms into Yuuri, who has his forehead up against Victor’s. Yuri’s eyes widen, and he digs his fingernails into his hand. It’s not what it looks like, it’s not what it looks like…

Luckily, the moment doesn’t last too long, and Yuuri skates out into the middle of the ice. He starts out by licking his lips of all things (Yuri dies a little bit at that), then proceeds to deliver a truly stunning performance. Yuri can’t even focus on drinking his juice anymore. The straw dangles from his mouth. He’s completely fixated on Yuuri, on the way Yuuri’s body moves, on how it would feel to have Yuuri skating that seductive dance with him.

He supposes that’s probably supposed to be the point, though.

He puts down his juice box and tries to keep his face expressionless. 

He spaces out, fantasizing about Yuuri performing that just for him, when Mila interrupts his reverie, asking whether he knew some kind of gossip about Georgi. He doesn’t care about Georgi, just says, “Shut up, hag!” Out of curiosity, though, he watches the rest of Georgi’s performance. 

The step sequence is really intense, almost frightening. “I can almost hear her terrified voice,” Mila comments.

“He’s way too into this performance,” Yuri agrees. 

After the program is over, Mila says, “Oh, right. His ex is also competing in the Cup of China.”

Yuri snorts. “Seriously? That’s gotta suck.”

And then, after performances from Leo de la Iglesia and Victor’s weird friend Chris, the results are out. Yuuri is in first place.

Yuri smiles secretly down at his lap. It’s nice to see that his belief in Yuuri isn’t unfounded.

The senior men’s free skate is scheduled for the next day, but Lilia has Yuri practicing, so by the time he remembers to get onto his phone to check the livestream, it’s already time for Yuuri’s performance. He looks a bit odd, red-eyed and subdued. Yuri rushes into the communal area to watch on the big screen just to see Yuuri nail his first jump, plus the second quad Salchow. 

(Yuri is sad for a moment, sad that their little secret is over, sad that Victor could teach him the Sal where Yuri failed, but he’s sort of proud of him anyway.)

His program continues without flaws but also without much energy, until Yuuri touches down on his triple axel. He overrotates his next jump combination, too. But his step sequence is beautiful, as always, and Yuri finds himself leaning forward, as if being closer to Yuuri on the television will give Yuuri the strength he needs to finish.

Yuuri has a quad toe planned, but Yuri can tell right from the entrance that he’s going into a quad flip. He falls, but he gets enough rotations, and Yuri’s heart swells—look at Yuuri, always surprising people, always surprising him—until the commentator says excitedly, “The quadruple flip was a signature move of Victor Nikiforov, his coach!”

…Right. Him. 

The camera zooms into Yuuri as he looks around confusedly for Victor, then beams when he sees him running to the kiss and cry. It follows Yuuri as he skates toward Victor, saying something inaudible. 

And it follows both of them as Victor leaps forward and kisses Yuuri all the way down to the ice.

Yuri’s heart stops. 

That…didn’t just happen, right? It was a hug, or, or—

But he sees the way that Victor looks at Yuuri, and even worse, he sees the way that Yuuri looks back at him. It's like the banquet all over again, but worse somehow. They look like they’re in love.

Yuri stares into nothing, eyes wide and hurt, until Victor comes onto the screen, saying cheerfully, “Now that Yuri can do a quadruple flip, he’ll definitely win at the Rostelecom Cup and advance to the Grand Prix Final. I’m looking forward to going to Russia as his coach.”

Mila smirks as she turns around. “Did you hear that?” 

Yuri is gripping his spoon, white-knuckled, lips pressed together. The spoon breaks. He doesn’t care.

This is all Victor’s fault.

“I’ll make you into borscht in Moscow, you pig bastard,” he murmurs dangerously. Let them think he’s talking about Yuuri.

Victor has just stolen away the one thing Yuri ever wanted, and there’s no way Yuri is going to let that go without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I USED TO HAVE A WARNING HERE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WOULDNT BE HAPPY BUT THEN I DIDNT HAVE SPACE FOR THE BAD THING I HAD PLANNED SO NVM


	8. Maybe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JK BAD THING WILL HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER

Yuri arrives at Sheremetyevo International Airport with Yakov, Mila, and Lilia. They’re met with a bunch of his fans. He winces. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with this right now.

“Mila, watch my luggage,” he hisses, then sneaks away to the outside of the arrivals terminal.

He looks around for the familiar green car when he hears a voice calling his name. “Oh, Yuri!”

He immediately brightens, grinning and running toward his grandpa. “Grandpa!” He leaps onto him and resolves to never let go again.

Until he hears a cracking sound, of course, and then he is all about letting go. “Sorry, I forgot you had a bad back,” Yuri apologizes, worried. 

They get in the car and exchange pleasantries. “Yuri, I made my usual pirozhkis for you,” Yuri’s grandpa says. 

Yuri takes a big bite. It’s excellent, as usual, but… “Grandpa, have you ever had a pork cutlet bowl?”

“Pork cutlet bowl?”

“I had them back in Japan. They’re really tasty!” He pauses, all of the memories rushing back, and looks down at his lap again.

“Are the pirozhkis not very good?” Grandpa asks, sounding disappointed. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Yuri rushes to assure him. 

They’re both silent, until the radio blares out, “Our national hero, Victor Nikiforov, has returned to Russia as a coach in the Figure Skating Grand Prix Series.”

Yuri’s face immediately hardens. Right. He can’t forget why he’s here. 

They travel to the hotel that’s been selected for all of the skaters, and Yuri’s grandpa drops him off in front. Yuri walks in, only to see Victor surrounded by a bunch of reporters. Great. 

“I’d like you all to focus on Yuuri at the Rostelecom Cup,” Victor says pleasantly in Russian. 

I’m in it too, Yuri thinks angrily. 

“If the skater Yuuri has that much charisma, don’t you want to face him as a fellow competitor?” a reporter asks. 

Victor just smiles, and Yuri frowns, thinking. Would that be better or worse? Victor would be away from Yuuri, but if Victor were to leave Yuuri for skating, wouldn’t Yuuri be heartbroken? 

He’s interrupted by Victor pointing rudely and loudly yelling, “Hey, it’s Yurio!”

All of the reporters turn around, murmuring. 

Victor untangles himself from the mass of reporters and makes his way over to Yuri, still smiling. He puts his arm around Yuri and winks. “Did you all see the short program I put together for Yurio?” 

It takes a few moments for Yuri to unfreeze, but when he does, he scowls furiously and knocks Victor’s arm away. “Quit acting like you’re still the top Russian figure skater,” he says dangerously. “I’m the star in this event!”

Victor is still smiling, patronizing, like he’s looking at a little kid. Yuri bristles. “You, come with me.”

“Oh?”

Yuri drags him away to a secluded corner of the hotel lobby and growls, “You.”

“Me!” Victor responds cheerfully. 

“You—you—” Yuri runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You kissed Yuuri.”

“Hm? Yes.”

Yuri supposes he already knew, but the frank answer still brings hot tears to the corner of his eyes. Swiping at them angrily, he bursts out, “You took him!”

Victor pauses. “Oh. Is this about that, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your little crush on Yuuri,” Victor says, waving his hand dismissively. “I figured it out at the Hot Springs on Ice event.”

Yuri clenches his teeth and ekes out, “It’s not a crush.”

“No? What is it, then?” 

“I—I—”

Victor peers at him, then laughs delightedly. “You think you’re in love, don't you!”

Yuri’s tears come in earnest now. “Stop it! Stop treating me like I’m—a little kid! I hate you!”

Victor tilts his head contemplatively. “But you are a little kid. You’re only fifteen, Yuri. Yuuri is twenty-three.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Yuri yells, voice thick with emotion. “You think I don’t realize—that—that it will never happen, that it’s hopeless, that—” A broken sob rips from his chest, and he hunches down on the ground. 

Victor draws back slightly, brows knitting together. “Whoa, whoa. I’m sorry, I was just teasing—I didn’t think—”

“You never think!” Yuri babbles, head cradled by his hands. “Because you’re famous, because you’re the best, because everyone is _below_ you, right? Even Yuuri, I bet you don’t even realize how amazing he is, how hard he tries—you don’t deserve him, it’s not fair—”

“You’re right,” Victor says, sounding subdued. Yuri looks up. “You’re right. I don’t deserve him. And it’s probably not fair. But—Yuri, it’s his choice. You don’t get to take that away from him just because you love him.” He sighs, looking away. “Anyway, I shouldn’t have made light of your feelings. I’m sorry. I forgot that I was fifteen once too.”

The tears are slowing, leaving Yuri numb. He blinks dully at the floor, then says flatly, “Yeah. You’re a real jerk.”

Victor laughs softly. “Yes, probably.” He extends his hand down to Yuri. “Need a hand up?”

Yuri scowls. “From you? No.” He gets up, drying the remnants of his tears with his jacket sleeve. 

“All right, all right. I get it. We’re not friends.” Victor pauses, then winks. “But rivals, maybe?”

Yuri glares at him, then starts to walk away. Biting his lip, he tosses over his shoulder, “Maybe.”

He’s making his way to the elevators when he sees Yuuri’s back retreating into one of the elevators. He runs and stops it with his foot. “Why are you sneaking around?” he asks. He means to sound friendly, sort of, but he’s still having difficulty mustering emotion after crying. 

“Yurio…good to see you again,” Yuuri says, a hint of nervousness tinging his voice. 

Yuri doesn’t know what to say after that, so he doesn’t say anything. Yuuri’s the one to break the silence, with, “Um, good luck to both of us in the Rostelecom Cup.”

“Huh? You’ll suffer a miserable defeat here in Moscow. I’m going to have Victor stay in Russia.” His voice is listless, the threats empty.

Yuuri just smiles. The smile drops after a moment, but then he says, “Hey, Yurio?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

Yuri blinks. “What?”

Yuuri scratches the back of his neck, flustered. “Sorry, was that too forward? I just felt like…I don’t know, I don’t really know anyone here, and it’s just nice to have someone like you around.”

Yuri’s traitorous heart warms. “Someone…like me?”

“Someone who’s not afraid to say what they think,” Yuuri says with a decisive nod. “Someone honest. I’m always afraid to speak my thoughts, but you never hesitate.”

Yuri’s stomach drops. Is that what Yuuri thinks of him? Does he think this is who he really is? “You’re wrong,” he whispers.

“Hm?”

“You’re wrong!” he exclaims, turning to face Yuuri. “I’ve never said what I really think to you, not once. Because I’m scared too, and—because—I can’t—”

The elevator dings, indicating that Yuuri’s gotten to his floor. He flushes deeply and looks away. “Never mind.”

Yuuri frowns and makes as if to leave, but he stands in the doorway to keep the elevator from moving.

“What?” Yuri asks harshly.

“Yuri, I don’t know if…” Yuuri takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if you like me, or if…you consider me a friend. But I really hope in the future that I’m someone that you feel like you can be honest around. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide with me, because I think you’re great just how you are, you know?” He smiles hesitantly. “I’m really not that great, so maybe you can practice with me.”

Yuri stares at him, then smiles hesitantly back. “…Maybe.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Then Yuuri shoots him one of those genuine smiles, warm and open, and Yuri is gone again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, and Yuuri leaves with a wave.

He pulls out his phone and texts the only person who’ll understand how he’s feeling right now. “frick Yuuko he’s so nice and hot and his smile is so beautiful help”

It’s early in the morning there, but Yuuko still responds within a few minutes. “lol I take it you saw him then?”

“yeah and he’s still perfect i reiterate help”

“lol IDK if you’d still say that if you heard him snoring”

“i bet his snores are perfect too”

“double lol! I guess that means you haven’t given up on him quite yet then?”

“no.”

He hesitates, then types out, “i’m going to tell him”

“Oooh really?”

“if we both get to the GPF. i’ll tell him then”

He shuts off his phone. Right. All he has to do is make sure they both get to the Grand Prix Final.

Easy enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the bad thing was going to happen this chapter but this happened instead so. lol. now actually prepare yourselves


	9. Beauty / Pain / Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAD THING AHOY
> 
> tw: medical abuse, severe transphobia, cw: period, non-graphic menstrual blood mention

The next day is the senior men’s short program. Yuri really isn’t feeling well for some reason, and on top of that, Grandpa isn’t coming.

He’s stuck doing warmups until the middle of Yuuri’s program. Yuuri is doing well, but all Yuri can concentrate on is the pulsing pain in his abdomen.

He pushes through it, peering at Yuuri and thinking, “He’s refined the program this much since the Hot Springs on Ice event, huh?”

Yuuri finishes strong, and Yuri closes his eyes. “Crap. And here I thought I’d be able to perfect ‘agape’ by having Grandpa watch.” Lilia takes off his jacket, and Yuri sighs internally. Oh well.

Yuuri passes him on his way off the ice, and his eyes widen.

“Out of my way, pig,” Yuri says tiredly, not thinking about honesty or agape or anything, really, except for how much he hurts.

Yuuri and Victor clear out of the way, and Yuri is left to deal with Yakov. “Yuri, no need to get tense just because it’s the Rostelecom Cup.”

Lilia cuts in. “All the work you did in practice won’t betray you.”

He can hear them distantly talking, but his hearing is going in and out. _Huh? I can’t hear very well. Calm down. Calm down!_

He’s brought back to the real world and away from the pain by the sound of cheering. Yuuri’s score has been announced, and Victor is kissing Yuuri’s skate. He scowls, and they both look over at him.

Yuuri brightens. “Yurio! Davai!”

“Huh?!”

Victor joins in as well. “Yurio, ganba!”

 _That_ does it. He skates angrily to the center of the ice. He doesn’t need them cheering him on. He’s the Ice Tiger of Russia, darn it, and he’s going to win regardless of whether they want him to, regardless of whether _anyone_ wants him to.

 _Crap! I’m not feeling agape at all,_ he thinks miserably. _I’m angry!_ And it hurts, hurts—

A particularly sharp pulse of pain hits him, and he falls on his first jump.

_Crap. Since last year, I haven’t missed that triple axel once until now!_

He goes into his flying sit spin.

 _I’ve been pouring blood, sweat, and tears into this since that humiliation, too,_ he thinks, flashing back to Hot Springs on Ice. _I just lack overall experience, that’s all._

He continues the program without any more mistakes, but it’s hard. When it finally ends, he just wants off the ice.

JJ stands in his way, smirking and clapping. “Oh, ladies first,” he says.

Yuri’s completely done. He doesn’t even care at this point whether JJ knows or whether he’s just being a giant jerk. _I forgot there was someone even more annoying than those two. JJ!_

Yuri pushes past JJ and to the results area, where he sits with his legs spread open, like usual. Yakov and Lilia are both angled away from him.

Yakov lectures him all throughout JJ’s skate, walking down the halls. Yuri’s abdomen still hurts, so he doesn’t really pay attention.

Then he sees Yuuri, seemingly arguing with Victor. “Huh?”

“But you have to go back!” Yuuri says heatedly.

“Like I said, I can’t,” Victor says, looking troubled. He looks over and spots Yakov, starting to walk quickly over to him. “Yakov! Thank goodness. You’re the only coach for me.”

Yakov smirks. “What? You want to come back?”

Victor shakes his head. “Can you be Yuuri’s coach tomorrow, for just one day?”

Yakov blinks. “Huh?”

Yuuri looks just as confused. “Huh?”

Yuri is confused, but he’s starting to get angry. Victor is leaving Yuuri when he needs him most? “Huh?”

All of them reiterate in unison, “Huh?!”

Victor explains the situation. Apparently Makkachin is sick back in Japan and Yuuri is insisting he go home to be with his dog. (He would, Yuri thinks almost fondly. That’s just the kind of person he is.)

Victor leaves to go pack, and Yuuri stays to finalize a few details with Yakov—what time they’ll meet up in the morning and such. Yuri sits down, feeling tired.

“All right,” Yakov says suddenly. “You ready to go, Yuri?”

“Sure.”

He stands up, and he feels something rushing down his legs. His eyes go wide.

No. Surely…

He rushes to the bathroom and fumbles out of his costume. There’s red all over his underwear.

This can’t be, he thinks, shaking. He’s been on puberty blockers since he was nine; he takes them every day, religiously. There’s no way.

 _Lilia has been picking up your prescription for the past few months,_ an insidious voice in his head whispers. _And the shape of the pills changed. She said it was just the switch to generic. But what if…_

She wouldn’t, right? She…

_prima ballerina, beautiful, strength is nothing without beauty—_

“Yurio?” comes a worried voice from outside the stall. “Are you okay?”

It’s Yuuri. “Go away,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Yuri? It’s just me, remember, I—”

“Go away!” he screams, and the tears start running down his cheeks again. “I don’t want you seeing me like this.”

Yuuri’s voice pauses. “Like what?”

Yuri wails, clapping his hand over his mouth at the unexpected sound. “I think…I think I’m on my period.”

There’s silence. Then, “Okay. What do you need?”

“New clothes, and, um…maybe those…pad things? I don’t know much about it, I—” He’s starting to sound hysterical, but he can’t stop. “I don’t know what to do—”

“Yuri.” Yuuri sounds utterly calm. “Breathe. It’ll be all right, we’ll figure it out together, okay? I’ll go get some things. Just stay here and focus on keeping your breathing even.”

“Okay,” he says, hating himself for how his voice comes out, high-pitched and feminine.

Footsteps sound and the door opens, then closes. Yuri tries to keep from hyperventilating. Yuuri knows. He’ll hate him, he’ll think he’s strange, he’ll—

“I’m back,” Yuuri says. “I put an out of order sign on the bathroom door, too. I’ll pass your stuff under the stall door, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” He pauses as he feels under the door for the little bundle, shivers when their hands touch. “Where’d you find the…yanno…”

“Girls’ bathroom. They had a dispenser.” Yuri can hear fabric shifting: a shrug. “Don’t worry, nobody asked any questions. They probably just think I’m a pervert.”

Yuri huffs out a laugh at that as he changes. Eventually he’s ready to come out.

He opens the stall door hesitantly. Yuuri eyes him carefully. “You okay?”

“No.”

Yuuri nods. “Fair enough. I’m guessing this has never happened before?”

“No, I’m—I’m on puberty blockers. It’s not supposed to happen.” Yuri rubs his fingers together. “I think it was Lilia. She thinks I’m a girl.”

Yuuri quietly curses in Japanese. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, I—I can do it.” Yuri looks away. “But maybe…if you came with me, um…”

“Of course.” Yuuri smiles softly. “I can’t guarantee I won’t get angry, though.”

Yuri snorts. “You? Angry?”

“It does happen. Especially when people hurt my friends.”

Yuri can’t even bring himself to feel hurt at the just-friends, his heart glowing at the fact that he considers them friends at all. “You’re being so…normal,” Yuri comments. “Don’t you think I’m strange?”

Yuuri’s lips grow tight, and for a second Yuri thinks he’s made a mistake. “Only as weird as I am,” Yuuri finally responds. “I’m genderfluid, so. Who told you you were strange?”

Yuri shifts uncomfortably. His parents. Yakov, at first. His friends, before he moved, before he became Yuri for real. “Lots of people.”

“I know how that is.” Yuuri sighs. “You aren’t, though. Strange.”

Yuri hums absentmindedly. He can’t even really feel embarrassed or awkward right now, the post-crying numbness setting in again.

“Look, I have to go call Victor,” Yuuri says suddenly. “Let him know I won’t be showing up to our hotel room for a while. After that we’ll go find Lilia, okay?”

His heart sinks a bit at the ‘our hotel room’ bit, a reminder, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”

“And Yuri?”

“Yeah?”

Yuuri bites his lip, then leans forward and hugs Yuri quickly. “Thank you for being honest with me. I really appreciate it. I know it’s hard.”

Yuri relishes in the warmth of Yuuri’s arms around him. “You’re welcome. I guess.”

Yuuri grins as he steps back, surveying Yuri. “My clothes are too big on you, sorry.”

Yuri freezes. “Your clothes?”

Yuuri shrugs. “I don’t know your locker combination. I always bring extras, so I just got some from my bag.”

Yuri looks down at his clothes—no, Yuuri’s clothes—and turns red. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Don’t worry,” Yuuri says with a wry smile. “You look better in them than I do. Anyway, I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Yuri waits for Yuuri to leave before fishing out his phone from his jacket pocket and taking a few pictures. For posterity, or something.

(No, he decides as he looks through the pictures, feeling rather pleased. Actually, nobody else gets to see this. These are all for him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilia will get her comeuppance next chapter
> 
> yuri is more docile in this one than usual but he's kinda in shock so
> 
> NOTE: yes, i did research and i am aware that puberty blockers are only available in injection or implant form, but that wouldn't have worked for what i wanted, so i changed it to imaginary pills. sorry for the inaccuracy!


	10. Sweet as Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for severe transphobia, misgendering, use of a deadname, cw for mention of menstruation

Yuuri returns within a few minutes. “All right. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Okay.” Yuuri puts a comforting arm around Yuri’s shoulder, and Yuri shivers reflexively. “Let’s go, then.”

They walk out together to the lobby, where both Yakov and Lilia are waiting. Yuri starts to feel nauseous, but he looks up at Yuuri, who smiles gently down at him and pats his shoulder. Okay. He can do this.

Yakov spots Yuri and scowls. “There you are! Where were you?! I was looking everywhere—”

Yuri looks around for reporters, then hisses, “I was dealing with my period, Yakov. Now, who here knows why that might be?”

Yakov blinks, confused. “Period? But you’re on that medicine—”

“I was,” Yuri says sweetly. “Until your ex-wife switched them out for—what, sugar pills, I’m guessing?”

Lilia stands her ground, face impassive. “You should be careful what you accuse me of.”

Yuri scoffs. “Please. You’re the one who’s been giving me my new prescription. What, you expect me to believe the pharmacist has some sort of transphobic agenda? Or that perhaps my cat has been switching the pills out? There’s no way it wasn’t you.”

Yakov turns to Lilia, looking at her searchingly. “Lilia?”

She taps her fingers against her hip, then sighs, relenting. “You’re a girl. You should never have taken that medication in the first place.”

Yuri can feel Yuuri’s grip tightening on his shoulder. It gives him strength. “No. I’m a boy, and you’re just pathetic.” He starts to walk out the door, Yuuri following after him.

“Yulia,” Lilia says, and Yuri freezes. “That’s your real name, isn’t it?”

He can’t move. He can’t even think, the name ringing around in his head, the name his parents gave him, the name that gave them so much power over him, the name he tried so hard to throw away all those years ago—

“I told you that in confidence,” he can vaguely hear Yakov yelling, “not for you to use against him! What’s wrong with you, you—”

A comforting squeeze of his shoulder, and then Yuuri is gone. Yuri gasps, vision swimming. Where did he go, why did he leave—

“Lilia,” comes a strong, confident voice from a few feet ahead of him. Yuuri has stepped closer to her and is staring her down with a deceptively pleasant smile on his face. “I wonder, are you aware how deep a hole you’ve dug yourself into?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I imagine you didn’t set out to be a criminal,” Yuuri says, his voice saccharine-sweet. “Probably you just wanted what was ‘best’ for him, right? Wanted him to recognize his true potential, or whatever other lies you told yourself. But you really didn’t think this through at all. Illegal possession of prescription drugs, theft, malicious destruction if you threw them away. We could probably make a case for child neglect or even endangerment. And that’s just the criminal charges! I’m sure I don’t need to explain the civil court system to you, but that medicine is incredibly expensive, and we could sue you for all it was worth plus the cost of future doctor appointments to get Yuri back on track. Maybe even for the cost of HRT since you’ve kickstarted his puberty. I suppose it depends on the judge.” He shrugs, smile turned dangerous now. “By the way, there’s quite a lot of support for young transgender kids in the West these days, don’t you think? I wonder what the Internet would think if they got a hold of your story. It’s a side note, but dancers are really nothing without their reputation. I can’t imagine anyone would hire you after such a public scandal.”

Lilia has turned completely white. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, ‘please’ what?”

“Please don’t…”

“It’s so interesting to me that you’re asking to be given a chance,” Yuuri says thoughtfully, “given that you never gave Yuri a chance or even a choice to begin with. So I think we should give him that choice now. Yuri, what do you think?”

Yuri, who’s been watching in stunned amazement, clears his throat. “I want to win.”

“Yuri?” Yuuri asks curiously.

“I want to win, and unfortunately, you can help me do that.” He points at Lilia rudely. “I’ll give you until the end of the Grand Prix Final, and then I’ll make my decision. But let’s be clear here. You don’t own my body. You don’t own anything of me. I own myself, and I’m going to be using you.” He smiles. “Also, I’ll be getting my own prescriptions from now on.”

Lilia nods, ashen.

“Oh, and Lilia?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t you dare ever call me Yulia again. My name is Yuri. That’s my real name.” 

“…Right.” She nods stiffly, then walks away.

Yakov closes his eyes, looking pained. “Yuri, I’m so sorry. I swear I had no idea.”

“I know you didn’t,” Yuri says dismissively. 

“We’ll get you an appointment with your endocrinologist as soon as possible to discuss your options. I know I wanted you to hold off on HRT, but maybe it’s finally time.”

Yuri inhales sharply, then grins. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while anyway.” He sighs, shifts his weight. “It’s been too long a day. Yuuri, are you all right to take Yuri back to the hotel?”

Yuri’s gaze snaps to Yakov suspiciously, and he—good heavens—winks. 

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri says, bowing awkwardly, all of his previous confidence gone. “Travel safely. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes. I’ll see you both.” Yakov exits the building, leaving only Yuuri and Yuri in the empty lobby.

Yuuri immediately bows, pressing his hands together. “I am so sorry.”

Yuri blinks. “What?”

“You wanted to do it by yourself, but I—I just got so angry, and—” Yuuri peeks miserably up at Yuri. “Are you mad?”

“Mad? That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Yuri says, his mouth running away with him. He turns red. “Uh.”

There’s a silence, then Yuuri’s laughter peals out through the building, sounding shocked and slightly scandalized. “Oh, really?”

“Shut up,” Yuri mumbles, but he’s smiling. “If you had seen you, you’d know what I mean.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Yuuri waves off.

“No, I’m not. Where did you even learn all of that legal stuff?”

Yuuri leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “I Googled it. I don’t even know if it’s right, but it sounded terrifying, didn’t it?”

And then they’re both laughing together. Yuri’s abdomen still hurts a bit and he’s still scared about what’s to come, but when Yuuri walks him back to the hotel, drops him off at his room, and says goodnight with one of those open smiles, and when Yuuri gets to sleep wrapped up in Yuuri’s clothes and with the memory of Yuuri’s laughter, he thinks sleepily that maybe things aren’t really so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really did google all that and as near as i can tell yuuri's sort of right, if exaggerating, about those charges. it's hard to tell tho
> 
> i feel sort of bad about making lilia the villain here given she seems pretty decent in canon but...not bad enough to stop lol


	11. Maybe (Reprise) / Courage

The next morning, Yuuri is clearly nervous without Victor. Yuri doesn’t really know what to do about it. He’s not exactly the comforting type, if history is any indication, and he doesn’t want to make things worse.

 _Why did Yakov take on that pork cutlet bowl?_ Yuri wonders idly as he walks the halls. Yakov doesn’t like Yuuri, and he isn’t too happy with Victor right now. Maybe it has something to do with feeling like he owes Victor something?

He’s interrupted by Yakov. “Yuri, your grandfather’s here.” 

Yuri lights up as he rushes to go find Grandpa in the parking lot outside. Yakov had mentioned he was going to call him about last night’s incident, but he didn’t expect him to actually come. 

He sits in Grandpa’s car. Grandpa doesn’t say anything at first, just hands over a brown paper bag. Yuri takes it, saying curiously, “Grandpa, I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“Just try these,” Grandpa says gruffly.

Yuri takes one bite and his eyes widen. _There’s pork cutlet, scrambled eggs, and white rice in here! What’s with this pirozhki?_

“It’s a pork cutlet bowl pirozhki,” Grandpa explains, leaning over slightly to stroke Yuri’s head. “Eat them and do well in today’s free skate, Yuratchka.” 

Yuri loves him. He loves him so much. He smiles widely. “Okay.” 

“Oh, by the way,” Grandpa says, suddenly all businesslike. “Can you give me the number of that awful woman, Lilia?”

“Hm? Sure, but why?”

Grandpa’s face turns grim. “I’d like to talk to her, is all. About what she did to you.”

Yuri stops eating the delicious pirozhki, faltering. “You don’t…she’s already scared pretty badly, I think.”

“I’d like to talk to her anyway. What happened was unacceptable for her to do as a guardian, but also just as a person.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Yuri taps his fingers on his thigh, thinking. “I’ll give you her number.”

“Thank you.” Grandpa pauses. “And you know…you know that I love you, right?”

“Grandpa, of course.” Yuri bites his lip, then pulls him into an awkward sort of side hug. “I’ve always known that. You do more for me than anyone.”

They exchange goodbyes, Grandpa promising to watch, and Yuri walks back inside, thoughts roiling. He honestly doesn’t know what to do about Lilia. He managed to stall the decision, but does he really have it in him to tell everyone if they make good on their threats? He has lots of reasons for not having come out. The skating world isn’t always very forgiving, and the board doesn’t know that he’s trans. They might try to put him in senior ladies’, they might ban him, they might do all sorts of things. And that’s not even counting all of the repercussions that could come from regular people.

He shakes his head. He can’t let all of this get in his way. _With Victor gone, I’m the only one who can win,_ he thinks. It’s a hard truth, but he knows Yuuri isn’t really in a good headspace right now, and he knows he can’t change that. _Everything should be on my side._

He can finally show Yuuri himself. Because maybe he still can’t be honest off the ice, but maybe on the ice it will be different. He can show him. Yuuri will understand, won’t he?

Emil performs, then Mickey, then Seung-gil. Finally it’s Yuri’s turn.

He can hear the cheers, he can feel everyone watching.

_I’ll win the first gold of my senior debut here!_

The first half goes well. It’s the second half that usually causes him problems. He grits his teeth. _Darn, this is tough._

_Here we go with the second-half jumps._

He lands his triple Lutz.

_Pork cutlet bowl has three quads, and JJ has four._

Triple flip.

_To beat them, I can’t make any mistakes!_

Quadruple toe loop. The crowd cheers.

_I don’t want to lose like that again!_

He flashes back to Skate Canada, where JJ had mocked him, where JJ had won. He calls him something unflattering in his mind, aware that his face is probably twisting, but not really caring. Quadruple Salchow, triple toe loop. 

He wonders how Yuuri is doing. He frowns. Not the time, not the place.

But still.

Triple loop, double toe loop.

He wonders what Yuuri is thinking right now. He wonders if Yuuri is proud.

Triple axel, single loop, triple Salchow.

He finishes the program and immediately falls to his knees, gasping and retching. His abdomen still hurts, and he feels like crap, but surely everyone saw him for once, right?

He skates off the ice and waits for his score. Yakov is with Yuuri, so he’s with Lilia, which is awkward.

Lilia hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder, and he freezes.

She leans over and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t react. He can’t react. He can’t deal with her right now. He peers at the screen.

199.87, 297.96. This he can focus on. He’s made it to the Grand Prix Final. He grins and stands, raising both his arms triumphantly. See, Lilia? See, everyone? See, Yuuri?

Yuuri. He looks around, shouting, “How’d you like my free skate, pork cutlet bowl?!”

But Yuuri is already on the ice. He looks awful, like something of him is missing.

Yuri gazes at him as he starts his program. Is this really what being without Victor does to him? Is this what it’s like, to be in love with someone and to have them love you back—this dependency, this connection?

Yuuri lands his quad toe loop, but pops his next jump. It turns into a single.

“What’s that pork cutlet bowl doing?” Yuri wonders out loud, frustrated. 

His next jump has enough rotations, but something is still missing. Yuri raises a fist. He’s pissed off now.

A triple loop, but he two-foots the landing. 

Yuri is incredulous. He knows Yuuri can do better than this. He has to get to the Grand Prix Final, right? He has to get there, so that Yuri can confess, so that—

“You idiot,” he says, irritated, then raises his hands in front of his mouth to yell, “Hang in th—”

JJ interrupts with a whistle, because he’s a total jerk. “Yuri,” he says. “All supportive now that you’ve clinched your spot in the Final, eh? Cheer for me too, will you?”

No way in heck. Yuri raises his fist again, scowling. He’d really like to punch that guy someday.

Lilia calls out, “Yuri, let’s go.” He doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay, he wants to cheer for Yuuri, he wants Yuuri to know that he cares.

“No,” he says happily, relishing in the word. “I’m going to stay right here.”

Lilia stares at him, then nods, walking away.

Yuuri finally finishes his program, lying down on the ice. Yuri leaves for the hallway. He thinks, if it were him, that he probably wouldn’t want anyone’s pity, or anything like it.

JJ ends up in first, Yuri gets second (irritating), and Michele gets third, but Yuuri gets fourth, and that means he’s going to the Grand Prix Final. 

Yuri doesn’t really know how to react to that, to knowing that he’s going to have to make good on his promise and tell Yuuri how he feels. He presses his lips together. He’s just going to have to avoid Yuuri until then. Excellent plan.

But then Yuuri is running after him, arms outstretched for a hug. “Huh?!” Yuri yells. “Stay away from me!” 

Yuuri catches him anyway, giving him a smothering hug before frowning and moving on. Yuri wrinkles his nose. What the crap was that supposed to be? This isn’t like him at all.

It’s with that thought in his mind that he breaks his own resolution and goes to find Yuuri outside in the falling snow. After a bit of wandering, Yuri finds him looking out to the street a bit away from the hotel.

Really. All because Victor is gone? Yuri’s heart hurts.

So he kicks Yuuri. Whatever. It’s not like Yuuri isn’t used to that by now anyway. Maybe it’s sort of like a sign of affection between them now, or something.

(Probably not, but he can dream.)

“There you are, pork cutlet bowl,” Yuri says. “You made me look for you.”

Yuuri turns around, still on the ground, and looks up at Yuri. “Oh, Yurio…”

“What was that earlier?” Yuri asks. “Stop creeping me out! And what was that free skate, anyway? You can make the excuse that you couldn’t do your best because Victor wasn’t there, but I was in top form and earned a new personal best, only to lose to JJ again! You have no right to feel more down than me, pork cutlet bowl!”

Yuuri blinks up at him, obviously confused. 

Yuri barely stops himself from huffing in frustration. He tosses the bag of pork cutlet bowl pirozhki down to Yuuri. 

“You can have it,” he says, face flushing slightly, looking away. “It’s almost your birthday, right?”

“Huh?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe now Yuuri knows he’s memorized his Wikipedia page. But he doesn’t care.

Yuuri looks down at the bag, then opens it up. “Pirozhki?”

“Eat,” Yuri says forcefully, still looking away. 

“Huh? Right here?”

“Eat!” Yuri leans against the railing with a forced casual air, then smiles as Yuuri takes a bite.

“There’s rice in this…” Yuuri says thoughtfully. “Pork cutlet and egg, too.” His eyes widen as he realizes. “It’s a pork cutlet bowl!”

“That’s right!” Yuri says excitedly. “My grandpa made them himself! Great, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!” Yuuri says, grinning. “They’re vkusno!”

“I remembered…” Yuri coughs awkwardly. “You said once that you eat pork cutlet bowls after winning. I know this wasn’t quite a win, but I thought you probably deserved one anyway.”

Yuuri gazes at him, and it takes a bit for Yuri to realize that tears are starting to gather in the corner of Yuuri’s eyes. “Wait, what?” Yuri says, blanching. “Why are you—”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, sniffling. “For…you had something so bad happen to you yesterday, and yet you’re still trying to cheer me up. I’m so pathetic, aren’t I?” He smiles shakily. “I can’t do anything without Victor. I couldn’t even show people what he means to me, not without him here. It’s so…I’m so…” He inhales sharply, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. “Sorry, I—”

“You’re not pathetic,” Yuri says slowly. “You’re just in love.”

Yuuri blinks at him.

“Right? You’re in love with Victor?”

Yuuri draws in a shuddering breath, then says softly, “Yeah.”

Yuri thinks this is probably what heartbreak feels like. But…for once, he feels like maybe he can deal with it. Because it’s not him, and it will never be him, but if it makes Yuuri happy…maybe that’s okay. 

Maybe that’s what love is about, in the end, really.

So, with his broken heart, he draws Yuuri into a gentle hug, and whispers, “It’ll be all right.” He doesn’t know who he’s talking to in that moment, whether it’s a reassurance meant for Yuuri or for him, but he thinks it’s probably true anyway.

They part that evening, and Yuuri goes back to Hasetsu and Yuri goes back to St. Petersburg. When everyone else is asleep on the plane, he stares down at the conversation he had with Yuuko.

“i think maybe before tonight i never actually loved him”

Yuuko hadn’t responded, so he had kept going.

“like i loved this idea of him, this picture of him i had in my mind, this concept that if someone so bright and kind and good loved me, then maybe i’d be worth something too”

He had paused before continuing.

“but that’s not how it works, is it? you can’t love someone else for what they can do for you, or for who you think they’ll make you. i think maybe you have to make your own self and then love someone anyway”

He had tapped his finger on his hip, then went on, “i don’t think i really know who i am, but i don’t want to define myself by what other people do or don’t think of me anymore. like i’ve spent so long skating for yuuri that i don’t even know anymore what it’s like to skate for myself and then what happens? he leaves, he loves someone else, and all of a sudden i’m nothing? i don’t want that”

Yuuko finally responds. “You’re definitely not nothing, Yuri. You are so much more, but I think it’s just going to take a while to realize what that is.”

“yeah, i guess”

“Don’t worry. You’re a very smart fifteen-year-old, smarter than I ever was. I think you’ll figure it out :)”

“you’re such a fricking mom”

“Well, yes, lol. But I’m a mom who cares!”

“what are you a tshirt”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.”

It had taken a moment for her to send the next text, but after a while his phone had dinged again. “Are you still going to tell him?”

“yeah, i said i would”

“Maybe it’ll help you let go.”

“maybe”

He doesn’t tell her that he’s afraid of letting go. He thinks she probably knows. He’s afraid that if he’s finally honest with Yuuri that Yuuri will hate him for real, and he’s even more afraid that if he’s honest with himself he’ll realize that underneath all the anger and bravado and loving Yuuri that he’s just someone small and scared and unprepared to deal with the world. 

Courage is being scared and doing it anyway, Grandpa always says. 

He clicks off his phone and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know who he is, but he thinks maybe, just maybe, he could be someone with courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a ridiculously long chapter. i was going to split it into two but i couldn't find a good break point. so -spreads my trash all over your table- here, here u go
> 
> this is going to end probably...in two or three chapters btw? i wont update the chapter count yet bc i dont know which but. jsyk
> 
> btw thank you all so much for your comments and everything i really appreciate the support! i love you all <3


	12. Tapping

After a few weeks of honestly rather awkward training—awkward because Yakov, Lilia, and Yuri don’t know how to act like nothing ever happened, don’t know if it’s even possible—it’s finally time to travel to Barcelona for the Grand Prix Finals.

Yuri doesn’t know exactly how to feel about any of this. Excited, maybe, because he saw his endocrinologist and he’s going to be allowed to start HRT after the Finals are over. Nervous, for so many reasons. Mixed in with everything else is just the slightest hint of melancholy, because somehow he knows that however things end up, they’ll be over.

They get to the hotel and Yuri checks his phone, partially because he’s bored and partially because he knows it’ll irritate Yakov. Sure enough, Yakov looks over and yells, “Yuri! At least check yourself in.”

Yuri looks up for a moment. “You do it, Yakov. I’m tired.”

He starts to walk away, but upon doing so, he runs into a group of his fans, who are all screaming, asking for autographs and photos. He scowls. “You ug—”

Lilia, from her place a few feet away at the checkin counter, chastises, “Yuri Plisetsky, don’t use unattractive words.” 

He scrunches up his nose, and the fans take the opportunity to drag him into the center of their group and take pictures with him. They put cat ears on him too, which is incredibly irritating.

He hears a voice speaking in English from the sidelines. Nobody he’s familiar with, but he can tell when someone is talking about him. “Wow, he’s so popular,” they say, sounding vaguely condescending. 

“Yuri’s Angels are famous,” and, crap, he knows that voice. JJ. JJ isn’t even working to keep the condescension in his voice at ‘vague’. 

“Huh,” says the girl in JJ’s arms. “But JJ Girls are better about following the rules, and we’re cuter.”

That pisses Yuri off. His fans may be irritating, but he’s the only one allowed to call them that. He goes off at the girl, calling her something insulting, but she just makes a face and says, “So scary. Help, JJ.”

JJ smirks. “Oh, he’s just jealous because my fiancé is so beautiful.”

Good heavens, Yuri hates him. Like he’d be jealous about a girl. “Any guy who wears sunglasses on his head is scum,” Yuri sneers, pointing. 

“Scary,” the girl reiterates, but JJ just laughs.

“Hey, don’t be so uppity…” He pauses, then raises a hand. “Otabek! Where are you going?”

The guy he called out to—Otabek, yeah? He’s one of the other competitors, but Yuri mostly only knows of him—looks sort of pissed to be interrupted. “Out to eat,” he says. 

“Eating alone? You’re still an odd one, huh?” JJ comments rudely. Yuri doesn’t even think he knows how he sounds. “Want to join us for dinner?”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Otabek says smoothly. Then his eyes glance over and meet Yuri’s.

Yuri’s eyes widen, then narrow. “Huh? What’s with you?”

Otabek doesn’t say anything. He just leaves.

Yuri blinks, then shrugs mentally. Not really worth his time.

The next day finds Yuri running away from his fans. He finds an alleyway to rest in, but he doesn’t know Barcelona well, and honestly he’s pretty hopelessly lost. He can hear his fans from afar—“Where’s Yuratchka?” they ask, like he had ever given them permission to call him that. 

They’re getting closer, too, and he has no idea where to go. _Crap. How do I get myself out of this?_

That’s when he hears the rumbling of a motorcycle, and all of a sudden, Otabek pulls up. “Yuri,” he says, still unflappable. “Get on.”

“Huh? You’re…”

Otabek’s face is completely impassive as he tosses Yuri a helmet. “Are you coming or not?”

Yuri doesn’t really have a choice but to get on. They ride around for a bit in silence, until Otabek parks his motorcycle near some kind of park—“Park Güell,” Otabek says shortly, like that explains anything—and starts walking up the stairs to a terrace overlooking Barcelona. They still haven’t exchanged more than a few words, and Yuri is starting to wonder if he might have been better off with the fans.

But when Otabek reaches the top, after a while of staring out at the setting sun, he says, “We know each other, you know. We trained together at one of Yakov’s summer camps five years ago.”

“Really?” Yuri asks, surprised. “I don’t remember that.”

“At the time, I was in my first year in the junior division. But I couldn’t keep up with the Russian junior skaters, so I was put in the novice class. That’s where I met you.”

Yuri stares at him curiously.

“Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier,” Otabek continues, still looking out at the sun. 

“A soldier?” Yuri says, confused but pleased. But he pauses as he too takes a look out at the sun. “Me?”

He’s not a soldier. Soldiers are strong. Yuri isn’t strong. He’s aggressive, sure, and brash, but strong?

“I had just moved my home rink from Moscow to St. Petersburg,” Yuri says slowly. It had been after he started the medicine to keep him from entering puberty, but his parents had basically disowned him for it, dumping him on his grandfather. Everyone around him was changing, and it was beginning to become suspicious to the other children that he wasn’t. He had always worn boy clothes, spoken like one, acted like one, but when he got up the courage to explain to everyone that he was a boy, they…

He digs his fingernails into his hands. “I was desperate. I’d decided that I wouldn’t complain until I was good enough.” 

He wonders idly to himself whether he ever got there, to that ever-elusive ‘good enough.’ Probably not.

“After that camp, I moved around to train, from Russia to the US and then to Canada,” Otabek says, still not looking at Yuri. Yuri’s not going to fault him for it though. “I only managed to return to my home rink in Almaty last year. Now, more than ever, I want to win the championship for Kazakhstan.” 

Yuri clenches his fists, then turns to Otabek. This is all well and good, but…“Otabek, why did you talk to me? I’m a rival, aren’t I?”

“I’ve always thought we were alike.” He finally looks at Yuri. “That’s all. Are you going to become friends with me or not?”

Yuri blinks, mouth slightly agape. He hadn’t seen that coming at all. 

But…a friend, huh? He’s never been asked by someone straight out to become friends before. Nobody wanted to be friends with the weird kid, and even now, who has he got? Yuuko is more like a cool aunt than a friend, and Yuuri… He shakes his head minutely. Yuuri’s not a friend, no.

He extends his hand and shakes Otabek’s. “Yeah, sure.”

Otabek doesn’t smile, not exactly, but Yuri thinks he might spot the corner of his mouth turning up just the slightest bit. “All right, then.”

Then he starts walking down the stairs again.

Yuri follows him, asking dryly, “Did you literally just take me here just to ask me that?”

“Yes,” Otabek says straightforwardly. “Is that a problem?”

“I guess not. Where are we going now?”

Otabek shrugs. “I spotted a café while we were riding around earlier. Figured we could get something to drink, or just talk. It gets cold here at night.”

Yuri huffs a laugh. “You’re surprisingly considerate.”

“You’re surprised? I suppose I’ll need to work on being more obviously considerate, then.”

That gets a real laugh out of Yuri. “No, you can stay how you are. It’s funny.”

They exchange small talk while they walk the distance to where the motorcycle is parked, then get into the café and order some tea. They talk until it’s dark. Otabek asks about his grandfather, and Yuri doesn’t have any trouble talking about him.

He’s in the middle of retelling a funny story about the time when Grandpa caught him trying to make pirozhki—a disaster, that—when he hears a thumping on the glass of the café window. 

Yuri looks out and blanches. It’s Yuuri, of all people, knocking politely on the glass and waving with a smile. Victor’s with him, plus Mari and Minako.

They walk out of the café into the cold, and somehow—well, not somehow, Yuri just can’t deny Yuuri anything—Yuuri talks them into getting together for dinner with all of the people that are already here along with Phichit and Chris.

“Why did we all have to get together?” Yuri hisses, not really at anyone in particular. He’d have been fine just being with Yuuri, or continuing his conversation with Otabek, but all of these people…

He cheers up a bit when the food comes out, though. Someone offers him some shrimp, and he happily partakes, only halfway paying attention to Yuuri talking from the other side of the table.

“Still, it’s kind of weird for us all to be here like this before the Final starts,” Yuuri says. “At last year’s Final, I was always by myself, even at the banquet.” He smiles sheepishly. “I couldn’t even talk to Victor.”

Victor immediately spits out his beer, and Yuri can’t blame him. Yuri is definitely listening now.

“Yuuri, you don’t remember?” Victor asks frantically. 

“What?” Yuuri says, eyes wide and confused.

“Yuuri, you got drunk on champagne and started dancing,” Chris says smugly, looking incredibly pleased to be the bearer of bad news. “Everyone saw it.”

“Huh?!” Yuuri gasps, freezing up.

Yuri is still processing. This explains a lot—Yuuri’s skittish behavior around Victor, for one—but he’s not happy about it, either. Those pictures were all he had of Yuuri for a while, and he doesn’t remember? He scowls. “That was disgusting,” he says petulantly. “I was dragged into a dance-off and got humiliated, too!”

“A dance-off?” Yuuri asks, high-pitched and incredulous. “With Yurio?”

“I did mine with a pole dance, half-naked,” Chris says, still looking very pleased with himself. 

Yuri can barely hear Yuuri muttering, “I start going off the rails when I drink, just like my Kyushu born-and-bred dad, so I was trying to lay off, but…”

“I still have videos of what happened,” Victor says with a clearly forced smile. 

“I do, too,” Chris says with a real, close-eyed smile, and takes out his phone to show Phichit. 

“Wait, what?” Phichit says, immediately interested. “Yuuri, that’s so dirty.”

Mari and Minako both sneak over behind Chris and Phichit and say in unison, “I want to see!”

“Don’t look!” Yuuri yells desperately. “W-wait…cut it out already!”

They’re all looking through the pictures on Chris’s phone when Chris asks, “What’s with the rings, you two?”

Mari looks up from the phone. “Huh? Rings?”

Minako says, “I don’t remember you wearing that.”

Yuri, who has been clutching his phone to his chest like doing so will keep the memories intact and precious, looks over at Yuuri. 

Yuuri claps a hand over his right hand. “U-um, this is…”

He and Victor both show them at the same time. “They’re a pair,” Victor says happily, apparently not caring about the banquet anymore.

Yuri’s blood pounds in his ears. What?

From somewhere far away, he can hear Phichit screaming something about congratulating them on their marriage, and Yuuri protesting, and Phichit yelling to the entire restaurant. Otabek is clapping next to him.

Yuri can only gape in horror at the scene before him. 

“Yeah, don’t get the wrong idea,” Victor says. “This is an engagement ring.”

Yuri feels like he’s drowning. He…he knew they were in love with each other, he was all ready to give up, but…engagement? They…he…

“We’ll get married once he wins a gold medal. Right, Yuuri?”

Yuri’s pupils dilate and his face and mood turn furious. He’s only marrying him if he gets gold? He has Yuuri, and he’s putting conditions on their relationship like that? He hates Victor, he hates him, he hates him—

JJ interrupts everything, like he always does, yammering on about how he’s going to be the one to get gold and get married, and everyone gets up to leave. 

Yuri is shaking; whether from anger or shock or sadness or all of the above, he doesn’t know. He only stops when he feels a finger tap his clenched fists.

He looks over at Otabek, who nods almost imperceptibly at him. 

They don’t hold hands on the way back to the hotel, or anything. Otabek had explained during their earlier talk that he doesn’t really like touching people or being touched. But whenever Yuri starts to get lost in his mind, he feels that same tap on his fist, and it brings him back, anchors him here.

He almost thinks for a moment that Otabek might follow him into his hotel room, ask about why he was so affected by Yuuri and Victor’s announcement. But he doesn’t. He just stares at a fixed spot on the door past Yuri’s head and murmurs, “Sleep well.”

“Yeah.” Yuri turns to open the door, fumbling with his keycard, and shuts himself in his room, where the gasping sobs finally come. He knew, he knew all along, and yet…there’s something about the finality of the rings on their fingers, something about the distance it creates, that squeezes Yuri’s heart and takes away the breath in his lungs. He curls up on his bed into the smallest ball he can and lets the pain concentrate, cold and dark, into the center of his chest, until he can barely feel it anymore, until he can barely feel anything.

He falls asleep like that, clutching desperately onto a corner of the sheets like it will keep him grounded.

When he wakes up the next morning and goes for a walk to get some air, he spots Victor, examining his ring against the morning sunlight. He scowls darkly and kicks Victor square in the back. 

Then he kicks him again, then again, then again.

“Victor Nikiforov is dead,” he hisses. 

Victor turns around, expression serious and somehow ethereal, and Yuri hates him.

“Why do you look so happy to be looking after that pig?” 

Victor smirks, leaning down as if to emphasize their height difference. “Did you want to compete against me?”

He hates him. “Don’t be so full of yourself,” Yuri growls. “Not all skaters look up to you.” He hunches his shoulders. “Just go away already, geezer.” 

Victor suddenly grabs his face, tilting it upwards. Yuri can’t stop spewing vitriol. He hates him. “The ring you got from that pig is garbage. I’ll win just to prove how incompetent his owner is.” 

Victor’s grip is starting to hurt, so he slaps his hand away. “Let me go!” 

Victor is just looking out at the ocean again, so Yuri starts to leave, before yelling back over his shoulder, “This place reminds me of Hasetsu’s ocean.”

Victor smiles. “I thought that, too.” He hesitates, then says, “Do you remember when we went out onto the beach that one night with all of the sparklers? Right before Hot Springs on Ice, remember?”

Yuri stops in his tracks. “Yeah.”

“Yuuri looked so beautiful that night. Like an angel.”

Yuri presses his lips together. His back is still turned to Victor. Why is he telling him this? He already knows.

“That was the night I realized I loved him,” Victor says, conversational. “And that was the night I swore I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of him.”

Yuri doesn’t know whether he wants to scream, or cry, or kick Victor again. “Okay,” he says, struggling to keep his voice level. “Why do I care?”

“I just wanted you to know that even if I don’t deserve him, I will do my best to make sure he’s in good hands. Maybe it won’t always be enough. But—but he is with someone who loves him more than anything, more than life, and—” Victor takes a deep breath. “And I know that’s not enough to make it not hurt, but…I wanted you to know anyway.”

Yuri slowly turns around, looking at Victor. Finally he says, “I hate you. You know that, right?”

Victor laughs, small and unsurprised. “Yes, I know that.”

“But…” Yuri breathes in deep and imagines a finger tapping his hand, keeping him here, in this moment. “He loves you. And if loving you makes him happy, then that’s what I want for him.”

With that, he finally walks away. He doesn’t look back. 

The Grand Prix Final starts tonight. He’s going to win, he’s going to tell Yuuri he loves him, and then he’s finally going to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is even longer lol. whatever i give up on being consistent. consistency is for good reliable authors not sentient trashcans
> 
> i hc otabek as autistic so that's how i wrote him here. i rarely touch people under my own volition with more than one finger so,, lol that's me being self-indulgent again and writing all my characters as me in different colored hats
> 
> btw this isnt gonna be otayuri either jsyk so pls dont ask for that


	13. Agape

He watches from the sidelines as Victor kisses their pair rings, and he doesn’t feel a thing.

He watches from a corner as Yuuri performs Eros, and all he feels is resignation.

And then, he gets on the ice.

Everyone is screaming, wishing him good luck, yelling his name, but inside, he is quiet and calm. 

The program starts. He raises his arm on the triple axel for more points, then goes into his flying sit spin.

As he skates, he thinks over all the people who have shown him love. Grandpa, of course, who showed him what it’s like to love unconditionally, even in the face of hardship, even in the face of pain. Yuuko, who showed him a mother’s love, a love he had never before experienced. Otabek, who’s beginning to show him the love of a friend. Even Victor, who’s showed him what it’s like to want to be better for someone you love.

And Yuuri.

Yuuri, who he still loves desperately, despite everything. Yuuri, his first love, who showed to him a brighter world, who stood just one step ahead and led Yuri here, to this moment. Yuuri, who is kind and beautiful and who is not his, but who deserves all of the happiness the world can give him anyway.

For a moment, Yuri wonders if this is what agape feels like.

Then everything goes blank, and there’s nothing except for skating and the ice. 

When he comes to, everyone is still screaming, and they’re throwing things at him, and he has no idea how he did, but somehow he can’t bring himself to care. Yakov showers him in compliments as he skates off the ice, Lilia nods proudly, and they all sit down in the scoring area. 

He gets a 118.56. 

He’s beaten Victor. 

His eyes go wide, and then he grins, bigger than he ever has before. Yakov lifts him up on his shoulder, exclaiming, “That’s my Yuratchka!”

“I’ve got this,” Yuri yells, and for once, for once, he doesn’t feel pathetic or weak or like he’s nobody or even like he wants to change. He’s Yuri Plisetsky, and he’s a soldier, and he’s going to win.

He does his obligatory interviews, then joins the crew watching the competition from the audience. Sara and Victor are already next to Yuuri on both sides, so he takes the next best thing and plops down behind Yuuri. Yuuri obviously has something on his mind as they announce Chris’s score, so Yuri snaps him out of it by slamming his feet onto the back of Yuuri’s chair, feeling sort of smug about the way both Sara and Yuuri startle.

It’s Otabek’s turn up next, and Yuri yells, “Davai!” Otabek responds with a thoroughly emotionless face and a thumbs up, but Yuri knows he’s probably happy about the support. 

This is the first time Yuri has ever watched a friend compete. It’s sort of a nice feeling, and when Otabek lands an amazing triple axel and then a clean quad Salchow, Yuri can’t help but smile proudly. 

When Otabek’s finishes, Yuri comments, “Another score higher than the pig’s,” and he can see Yuuri freeze in front of him. Yuri sighs mentally. He really should give up trying to be motivational. It doesn’t work for him. And, whatever, he’s allowed to be happy for his friend anyway.

JJ is last, and to everyone’s surprise (and Yuri’s vindictive glee), he completely botches pretty much everything. It’s pretty obvious something is going on with him, but he still forces a smile and that weird hand gesture for his fans, who go wild. Yuri scowls and presses his hands over his ears, yelling, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

The event ends for the day, and everyone dutifully files down the stairs. Yuri frowns at the look on Yuuri’s face as he walks through the halls. He looks troubled, deep in thought, and Yuri knows that never goes anywhere good for Yuuri.

Yuri looks around at everyone else, even Victor. Don’t they notice? Don’t they see? They’re all so much better equipped to talk to Yuuri, so why aren’t they doing it?

He sighs, aggrieved, then shoves Yuuri in the shoulder. Yuuri looks back, confused.

“Hey. About what I said earlier.”

“What?”

Yuri huffs. “You…didn’t do too bad today. You just can do better, all right?”

Yuuri blinks at him, then gives a small smile. “Yeah. I’ll do my best.”

Yuri nods, then speeds up so that he’s walking ahead of everyone. He can feel them staring, and it sucks.

The next day, Yuuri doesn’t show up for warmups. Yuri spends the entire warmup slightly pissed off. “You had better not break your promise,” he mutters to himself as he practices one of his jumps. “You had better do your best.”

He does show up for the event proper, though, scheduled after JJ and Phichit. Yuri watches on the screen in the back area as Yuuri and Victor hug, then as Yuuri skates to the center of the ice. 

The program starts, and Yuri can immediately tell that something is different. He can see in this skate the man he fell in love with, the potential that he always saw just out of Yuuri’s reach. Yuuri’s artistic elements are beautiful, and his technical elements are clean and full of emotion. Yuri smiles softly at the screen.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever regret having fallen in love with Katsuki Yuuri, not after that performance.

Yuuri gets a 221.58 for his free skate, which means he’s broken Victor’s world record, too. His total score is 319.41. Yuri can’t even bring himself to get mad about it. If Yuri does get silver, Yuuri will have deserved the gold. And anyway, they have all the rest of their lives to fight it out, again and again, and Yuri will get the gold someday.

That’s what he’s thinking, anyway, until Victor accosts Yakov as they’re walking to the ice. “Yakov,” he calls out, “I want to talk to you about something.” 

Yakov asks incredulously, “Right now? Tell me later. It’s almost Yuri’s turn!”

“I want to come back,” Victor says, almost breathlessly. “To figure skating. I want to compete again.”

Yuri has been walking away, but even he stops at that. 

Yakov gapes. “What?! You’re coming back?!”

“Yeah.” Victor smiles, but he looks sad somehow. Yuri takes out his headphones. What does that mean for Yuuri? “For now, I’ll time my return to the Russian Nationals.”

And suddenly, Yuri understands. Yuuri is leaving. Yuuri is going to get gold, and he’s going to retire, and he’s going to leave Yuri behind. 

“Hey, does that mean the pork cutlet bowl’s retiring?” Yuri asks desperately, walking over to Victor, hoping to be proven wrong.

Victor looks away, smile faltering. “…That’s his decision. He said he’d decide after the Grand Prix Final was over.” 

Yuri stares in horror at Victor. He looks sort of like he’s about to cry.

Then he reaches forward and draws Yuri into a hug, like Yuri is that tap on his fist, like Yuri is keeping him here, and Yuri knows what he has to do.

He has to win. It’s not about wanting anymore, he has to, because then Yuuri won’t—no, can’t—leave. 

Yuri isn’t going to let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is the end!
> 
> you can do it yuri *waves flag*


	14. What You Deserve (Happiness)

Yuri walks out to the ice, headphones in, head lowered. He can’t even bring himself to watch the rest of Otabek’s performance. He has to concentrate. 

He lifts his head and skates out onto the ice.

He hears Otabek shouting, “Yuri, davai!” Yuri only gives him a thumbs up in return. He doesn’t need good luck. He’s going to make his own.

_Yakov. Lilia. Grandpa. Yuuko and the rest._

_And Katsuki Yuuri…watch this closely._

The first few jumps go well. He can’t let it get to his head. 

He remembers last year’s Grand Prix Final, watching Yuuri’s free skate and thinking, _He screws up his jumps, but his step sequence grabs your attention. I want to see him skate with no mistakes._

He returns to the present, face hard. _What, you’re gonna retire once you win gold? You don’t care anymore now that you got a higher score than Victor’s? That’s bull! Don’t disappoint me! There are no gold medals for pigs to feed on!_

It’s the second half now, and Yuri’s starting to feel the exhaustion set in, but he can’t let that get to him either. _I’m going to win!_

And then he falls on his quad toe. He gets up right away, but he can immediately feel the despair swell in him. What if that’s the mistake that keeps him from winning? What if that’s the mistake that lets Yuuri leave?

No. Don’t think that. Finish strong. He raises his arms on his next jumps.

_Are you watching, Katsuki Yuuri? I’m gonna beat your record someday._

He adds in another quad.

_If you retire now, I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your life. Moron!_

He finishes the skate, but now it’s all catching up with him. Yuuri’s going to leave now, just because Yuri wasn’t good enough. He’s going to be gone, it’ll be all his fault—

The tears come unbidden, and he falls to his knees. 

_Please, stay. Please. Please realize how hard I tried for you, and stay, and then—even if we’re not together, it’ll be all right, so—_

He waits for his score with baited breath. He gets a 200.97.

They add up the score, and it’s the slowest moment Yuri has ever experienced.

319.53. 0.12 points over Yuuri’s.

He could almost cry again, but he keeps it together. Surely Yuuri will have to stay now, right? With that narrow of a win, he’ll have to come back, again and again—

Victor finds him after that, hugs him again, whispers, “You did it, thank you,” like it was Victor’s idea and not his. Yuri is too busy being relieved to get mad, though.

“Hey,” he says gruffly. “Where is the pork cutlet bowl? I need to talk to him.”

Victor pauses, smiles like he knows. “He’s calling his parents. I can bring you to him.”

“Thanks,” he says reluctantly. 

When they find Yuuri, he’s just hanging up, and he brightens at the sight of them. “Yuri! I’ve been wanting to find you, I wanted to say—”

Yuri holds up a hand. “No. I have to say something first.”

Victor quietly excuses himself, Yuuri blinking adorably. 

“I’m going to say something, and you’re not going to interrupt me, okay?”

Yuuri nods, still looking confused. 

Yuri takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, then says, “When I first fell in love with you, I was eight years old.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen, and he opens his mouth as if to speak.

“No interrupting!” Yuri yells, and Yuuri’s mouth snaps shut almost comically. “I was eight years old, and I saw your skating, and it was like all of these bad things that had happened to me suddenly had a purpose, and their purpose was to lead me to you. 

Everything I did after that, everything, was so that I could reach you. And bad things still happened, and life still sucked, but it was all okay because I knew there was a light just ahead of me, and I thought when I finally caught it, I would finally be happy.”

Yuri taps his fingers on his hips, thinking, then says, “Then I came to Hasetsu, and I got to know you more, and you were so much better than I had even imagined. You’re so earnest, and nice, and you put so much of yourself into everything you do, and each day we spent together was another moment I fell in love.

Anyway, it was just a month, but during that month I really felt like I had finally found that happiness I had been waiting for all my life. I knew you didn’t like me back, and I sort of knew you never would, but it was fine because we were together.

But then you won at Hot Springs on Ice, and Victor stayed with you, and I already knew you were falling in love with him. But I still couldn’t give up, you know? I had loved you for so long that it felt like a part of me, and I didn’t know who I would be without it, if I’d be anything at all. I figured if I kept clinging to it, then…I might not be happy, but at least I’d be someone. 

So I kept working, and I kept following your light, and a part of me still thought, someday. Someday I’ll change and become someone he can love back, and all I have to do is fight for that day.

It wasn’t until the Rostelecom Cup, when you stuck up for me in front of Lilia, that I knew I had never really loved you until that day, and it wasn’t until the next day when Victor left that I truly knew I would never have you. Because Victor makes you happy, and that’s what you deserve.”

Yuuri looks like his heart is breaking. Yuri knows his is, a bit. He looks away for the first time, at a random spot on the wall. “So this isn’t me trying to change anything, or trying to make you feel guilty for wanting to chase that happiness you’ve found with him. This is me doing my best to move on. Because this isn’t fair to you, but it’s even less fair to me. And…I don’t know what I deserve, if I deserve anything at all, but I’d like to think maybe someday I’ll deserve to be happy too.”

Yuri scuffs his feet on the ground, and mumbles, “So, yeah. That’s how it is. I guess that this is goodbye.”

He’s proud of himself. He finally managed to express his feelings. Yuuri knows now, so he probably won’t want anything to do with him anymore. But that’s okay. 

He turns to leave when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks back, and Yuuri is frowning. “You don’t get to just say all that and not let me say anything at all.”

“What can you say? I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry. You’re always sorry. I don’t want to hear that you can’t accept my feelings, or whatever, or that I’m too young, or that you’re too old, or whatever else. I already know all of that.”

“If I promise not to say any of that, will you let me talk?”

Yuri scowls, still not able to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “Fine.”

“Good. Let’s see, where can I even start…?” Yuuri sighs. “Okay, first thing, since you aren’t, I’m going to be insulted on your behalf that you could ever think even for a moment that you’re not so much more than your feelings. You’re snarky and smart and you always have something to say, and you’re extremely kind and thoughtful, even if you’d never admit it. You’re also probably the strongest person I’ve ever met. You go through so much every day and you do it all without complaining or even really telling anyone, and while we’re on the topic, you’re the first person to ever get the gold medal in the Grand Prix Final in their debut senior year, and you’re daring to say you’re not anything without me?”

Yuri starts to protest, but Yuuri holds up a finger, eyes twinkling. “Nope. No interrupting. Second point, you deserve the entire world, and I will personally fight anyone who says otherwise, including you. I’d say that you deserve way more than me, but I imagine that’s the type of self-deprecation that would piss you off—that’s a double standard, by the way, but I guess I shouldn’t be talking—so I won’t say anything except for that you have such an incredible future ahead of you and that you will completely and utterly _deserve_ every bit of it.

Final point, you don’t have to change for any of us to love you. Yuuko talks my ear off about you every day, do you know that? I know you don’t like Victor, but he really cares about you. And…” Yuuri hesitates, then finally says, “This might be cruel to say after what you just told me, but if you had ever bothered to ask me, you’d know I love you too. Not like you want, maybe, but as best as I can. You’re so important to me. I mean…what I wanted to tell you when I first saw you was that your performance tonight was the reason I decided to keep skating. You’re the reason I’m still here. So when you stand here and tell me that you’re trying to say goodbye, after skating so well that I had to stay, I can’t accept that.”

Now Yuri is the one blinking at Yuuri, trying to keep tears at bay. 

“I want to keep fighting against you. I want to keep getting to know you, how you really are. And if you need time apart from me to feel better, then do that, but please never doubt that I’ll be right here waiting when you return.” Yuuri’s eyes are fierce.

Yuri barely even notices that his feet are taking him a step forward, and then forward again, until he’s falling against Yuuri. The tears come in earnest then.

Yuuri returns the hug, uncaring of the tears soaking his jacket, and rubs gentle circles into Yuri’s back. He murmurs something in Japanese, crooning it like a lullaby, and Yuri doesn’t know what he’s saying, but it calms him anyway. 

Eventually, Yuri’s tears slow and then stop. “Are you okay?” Yuuri asks.

“No,” Yuri says mulishly. 

“Fair enough.” 

“But,” Yuri says, biting his lip. “I think I will be.” 

Yuuri smiles softly. “Yeah. I think so too.”

\---------------------

It takes a while for that to be true. With Otabek training back in Kazakhstan for Worlds and Yuuri and Victor back in Japan preparing for their move back to St. Petersburg, Yuri feels very alone for the next while.

But. He starts on HRT. He practices skating. He tells Lilia to leave. He texts Otabek, and Yuuko. He deals. 

By the time Yuuri comes back to train in Russia, holding hands with Victor and waving, Yuri’s heart doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

One day, as Yuuri comes running up to him and Victor, he realizes that it doesn’t hurt at all.

Yuuri was right, he decides. He has an incredible future ahead of him. He’ll find new people to love, and new people to lose, and to love again. He’ll light his own way through the darkness, and he’ll have people around him to help when he gets lost. And someday, somewhere, he’ll find himself too.

“Yuri?” Yuuri asks curiously. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” he says, then grins as he takes off at a sprint.

“No fair!” Victor calls out behind him, and Yuuri groans something about having run all the way _here_ , are you _kidding_.

Yuri holds his arms out as he runs in the crisp morning air, the wind flowing through his hair and his outstretched fingers, and a strange feeling bubbles up inside him. It’s something distantly familiar, something strong and bright.

It feels a lot like happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone Is Slightly OOC: The Chapter
> 
> Resident Aro Ace Tries To Write About Romantic Love, Screams: The Chapter
> 
> Somebody Give Yuri Ten Million Hugs: The Chapter
> 
> anyway, it's finally the end! it was a bit of a struggle getting here, but i'm really pleased i was able to do so and tell the story i set out to write! it's a cliche (imagine that coming from me lol) but i really couldn't have done it without all of you guys' support. thank you for putting up with me and my ridiculously inconsistent writing schedule! i love you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! my tumblr is [anuninterestingperson](http://www.anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com) if u wanna come and talk about ice babies with me!


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